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ktficworld · 7 months

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Lies and Lavish

Chapter 1: introduction

Pairing: soft dark! Andy Barber x reader, soft dark! Steve Rogers x reader, soft dark! Clark Kent x reader, soft dark! Bucky x reader, soft dark! Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary: You finally pull your head out of your studies and go to your long time friend's wedding to relax. And it's going to be alright, even if the infamous five brothers tend to linger around you a little too long, even when you share a past with one of them, even if their darkness is slowly approaching you. It's going to be okay, right?

Warnings: angst, mutual pining, manhandling, violence (by reader)

A/n: phew, it's finally here. Let me know what you think and please reblog it. It give ke motivation.

The wind whistled in the air mingling with the horns and roars of the cars, more expensive than your soul.

You sighed at the gigantic iron gate before you as the straps of your backpack dug into your shoulder. You were really second guessing your visit but the thought of your friend made you shake your head. After all, it was your childhood best friend wedding, even if it was to Ransom Drysdale. How did she managed to win that throttle? You would never know. But then again, not everybody's life revolved around school and sleep.

You glanced at the two additional bags you brought. Your backpack had essentials and your books. Even though, you came to relax, you'd still squeeze in some study. Business was no easy major and your finals were four months away.

You gripped your trolley bags and meekly shuffled towards the gate and entered the Drysdale estate through a smaller door-like gate. You sighed and looked around for any worker or someone who could help you with this maze.

Honk.

You jumped, clutching your racing heart as the loud noise pulled you out of your reverie. You began turning your head to glare at the motherfucker who almost gave you a heart attack, when an oh-so familiar voice called out your name.

"Luna! Come here."

You caught a glimpse of a Rolls Royce with a familiar sticker before you turned to beam at your friend, Alaïa. She waved at you with a megawatt smile and you thanked your lucky stars for working today as you dragged the bags and yourself towards her.

"Hi Alaïa, oh god! I can't believe you are getting married. Congratulations!" You said while intertwining your hands with hers, bouncing giddily.

"Thanks sis and gimme this," She pulled the bag off from your shoulders and deposited it on the nearby trolley bag. She glanced around and beckoned someone to where you were standing. "Leo, can you put these bags in the guest room I set up. Thank you." She politely ordered and off went your bags.

"Wow, Alaïa. You're living like a queen, huh?" You said, distracted by the large man taking away your luggage.

"Well, perks of marrying a rich man."

At that your smile faltered. You gradually dragged your gaze back to her. "Listen, Alaïa, you know I don't beat around the bush so I'm just gonna ask you. Are you okay with Ransom bringing more wives in the future?"

That was the new normal now. Apparently, 50 percent divorce rate was too alarming for the governments around the world. Add the loneliness statistics and now getting a divorce was nearly impossible. However, those who had the money to keep multiple partners, were allowed. Yes, polygamy was now legal. But the financially dependent partner had no say in this arrangement and that was why you feared for Alaïa.

Alaïa grimaced. "I know you're blunt. But you don't have to put it like that and don't worry. Ransom has promised to stay with me and only me."

They meant nothing. You were promised too. "But Alaïa, people change. What if he just said that to trap you? What will you do when he brings home some bimbo twenty years younger than him?"

People do change sometimes, even overnight. Or maybe they just hide their true face so perfectly that you couldn't see past those roses and sweet nothings.

Alaïa's lips tugged upwards into a half, bitter smile. "You think I'm a gold digger, don't ya?"

You gasped at the accusation. "God, no. And even if you were a gold digger, there's nothing wrong with it in this economy. The golden days are long gone. I'm just concerned about you, Alaïa."

"Hmmm, I know you only want the best for me. And I was just teasing you. I have signed the open marriage arrangement."

You heaved a sigh of relief but couldn't help thinking that somebody had definitely shamed her with that tag. "You scared me. It's great Ransom offered you that. Maybe, he is actually really committed to you." There were men and women who would allow the courtesy of an open marriage to their financially dependent partner, in case they marry again. So, if Ransom was really risking his fragile male ego, then he really meant it in your opinion.

"Yeah, maybe we can find you a committed one or two here. Look, their eyes are already wandering over you." She said with way too much enthusiasm and pointed behind you where few men were eyeing you with interest.

You whipped your head back to your friend, now accompanied with a sharp glare. "Absolutely not! I don't plan on marrying. Ever. And especially not to those dogs lolling their tongue."

Alaïa laughed at your little outburst and hooked her arm with yours. "I'm joking. Now, come on. Let's get you to Harlan." And began leading you inside the mansion.

But you planted your feet on the ground, causing her to stagger back to you. "Why would I meet Harlan?" You asked, bewildered.

She looked at you sheepishly. "I may have bragged about your writing and business skills way too much. Because as soon as I said you were coming today, he instructed me to bring you straight to his office."

What did your friend tell him that Harlan Thrombey wanted to meet you? And not just meet you but meet you straight away? It annoyed you nonetheless. "Alaïa, but-"

"No if and buts. You are going to the office right now." She declared and dragged your whining body with her.

"Harlan, look who's here." Alaïa announced as she pushed open the large doors.

You stood beside her and smiled at Harlan when his eyes lit up. "Oh, Luna. Welcome dear. I have heard a lot about you." He said with a good-natured smile.

"I don't know what she has told you but I'm definitely not what you think." You said, stepping towards him.

Harlan huffed out a chuckle. "I call it nonsense. I have seen you work, I have seen your articles. You are an asset to have-"

"How are you doing, Harlan?" A dark baritone voice called from behind as the doors flung open, sending shivers down your spine.

You gazed back and your breath hitched in your throat. In walked The Five Brothers, the richest and most dangerous people in the world. If one percent of the world's population ruled the 99 percent, then they ruled the hundred percent of it. They had unimaginable power, both legally and illegally.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had company." The eldest, Andy Barber said. You didn't catch the intrigue in his voice.

Because among them was him. He was the last one to come in, your eyes locked for a second and an emotion you couldn't decipher passed through his eyes before he completely disregarded you and returned to his nonchalant attitude.

And why would he care? You meant nothing to him. Or he wouldn't have left the way he did. It was just a second of eye contact but for you it felt like eternity as the bittersweet memories flashed before your eyes. They were tainted by the black cloud of reality but for you, they meant everything. Because even if you were a mere lay for him. You liked that bastard. Loved even, if you allowed yourself that pain.

"Luna, I didn't know he'd come. I'm sorry." Alaïa said but you were already too out of your mind to care about her words.

You were drowning. Drowning in pain, in the memories, in the abandonment after swearing to never love, seeing your parents example. Only to open your heart to that asshole and have it smashed into a billion pieces.

Your lungs were bursting and tears were prickling your eyes. You didn't want to cry over that fucker, never, not again. But your breath was already coming out in short puffs and it was getting difficult to remain discreet. You were going to cry, you couldn't help it.

"Harlan, my head is hurting like crazy. I think coming here in this scorching heat caused it. Can we talk at night?" You blurted out as you released a shuddery breath, unshed tears bluring your vision.

Harlan's eyes softened and he gave you a compassionate smile. "Of course, dear. Take care of yourself."

You nodded with a wry smile and turned to leave. Attempting to bypass the large men that had engulfed the entire study.

There was no furniture at the door, no plants but you still gasped as your feet hit something, disbalancing you as you fell. However, before you could fall, a pair of strong arms caught you. You knew who caught you, you knew that scent too well. You looked up to glare at him. He made you fall.

"Woah, babe. I know women fall head over heels for me but I didn't mean it literally." He chuckled and you screwed your eyes shut to stop yourself from slapping the fuck out of him.

"Maybe you are way too sick. Should I escort you to your room?" He said and you snapped your gazes up at him.

You wanted to squirm out of his hold. Maybe stomp on his feet. You wanted to run away but the bruising grip around your waist didn't allow you the courtesy. His signet ring digging into your skin, as if pleading to agree, to hear whatever he wanted to say or do.

"Please." You whispered, you didn't know what you were asking. To tell you the truth and finally give you closure or to not break your heart again.

You squealed as he collected you in his arms. Promptly trapping you.

"Yeah, Bruce just go and drop her. Don't mess around here, okay." Andy said with a sigh.

"Of course, brother. Why would I do that now?" Bruce said with feigned innocence, causing all of his brothers to scoff.

He turned to Alaïa and stared at her expectantly. "Oh, third floor, last room on the left side." She hastily informed.

He nodded with his charming smile and dashed out the door. But you knew he wasn't taking you to your room.

"Bruce put me down." You said with calm firmness. Finally getting a hold of your emotions.

"No." He said with an attitude as he marched up the stairs, the forcing rocking you hard in his arms as you clutched his shoulders.

"Bruce, I said let me go and don't give me that attitude."

No answer.

"BRUCE LET ME DOWN." You were suddenly pushed into a dark corridor. His entire weight pinned you down to keep you from squirming away.

His head whipped to the right side, inky hair cascading over his forehead as your slap echoed in the hollow corridor. He did not move his head, did not bat an eye, hell! He looked like he wasn't even breathing.

You snapped his face to the left as you hit him again and again. You knew it was wrong. You knew he wasn't feeling more than a pat on his cheeks as you were no match for his strength but you still did it. Once, twice, thrice. You did it till tears rolling down your cheeks blurred your vision, till your hands hurt and shook, till they were covered by larger ones.

You wanted to cry on his shoulder, like how you did when you didn't get the expected result but you refrained from it. And leaned against the wall instead.

"Want to hit me again? Go ahead." Bruce whispered, his thumbs soothing your aching palms. There was emotion in his voice now, the care that he lacked before.

"You left," You said through sobs. "You left after we lost our virginity together!"

"I did. But I never wanted to leave you. I had to." He replied, his voice cracking in the end.

"That is not a good fucking excuse, Bruce Wayne." You bit back and tried to wriggle out of his hold but you were further pressed into the fall when he caught onto your escape plan.

"I'm not making any excuses Luna. I had no choice, we had no choice! They were so close to uncovering our identity. We would have been done for."

"Who they? What they? Bruce do you seriously give this explanation to every single woman you fuck and abandon? When you take their virginity or sack a married woman? You are a pathetic excuse of a man, Bruce." You were just his practice. Someone he lost his virginity to, nothing more, nothing less. You were done. You didn't want any closure, any explanation if this was what you were getting. You wanted him out of your sight and life. Even if it meant leaving your best friend's wedding.

"I swear on my dead mother's grave I didn't want to leave, Luna!" Bruce roared and you finally halted, coming down from your hysteria. You looked at him as you both heaved.

He swore on his mother. The mother who he loved dearly. Who was kicked out on the streets with his other four brothers by their father and mistress, throwing them out of the life of luxury to beg on the streets. The one who died in front of him in a car accident when he was just eight.

Bruce told you all this when he was too drunk or too sleepy to care. So you weren't relying on gossip here.

Now you listened to him as he took a deep breath. "Do you think I like it? Moving from one place to another on a day's notice? Working minimum wage jobs even though we were far more capable? Changing identities like clothes? Do you think we liked living in fear? I had a red dot on my forehead, Luna. Heck! Maybe I still do and when I say I didn't have the time to even say goodbye, I mean it. And no, I didn't sleep with married women, didn't take anyone's virginity. All hook ups were consensual and I don't give anyone any excuse or explanation."

"Is this really the truth?" You asked, exhausted and relaxed at the same time.

"It is, Luna. I never wanted to leave you. I-missed you." He whispered and gingerly touched his forehead with yours and when you didn't jerk away, he released a shuddery breath.

"I don't forgive you." You whispered back, touching his stubbled jaw. God, his warmth, he still used that aftershave. It brought back so many memories.

"You don't have to."

"Are you asking for it?"

"Yes."

To your dismay, a hope bloomed in your heart that maybe, you would be able to forgive him with time and rekindle the unsaid. However, you quickly crushed that desire. You were worlds apart now. You were still grinding your ass to study and get a good job while he was one of the richest men in the world. You didn't belong here. He did.

You slid your head from his forehead to his chest as he buried his head into your hair. You let a few more tears fall off your eyes as a pang of headache hit you. It was great while it lasted.

"Bruce-oh! You know her?" A surprised voice startled you as Bruce tensed underneath your hold.

He sucked in a deep breath and whirled around so quickly it gave you whiplash, his tall stature shielding you completely. "And now why would I tell you, shorty? Were you stalking me?" He said with a sardonic smirk as you gaped at him.

This was not the sensible, careful and vulnerable Bruce. This was the rude, condescending and arrogant rich asshole everybody knew him as. Granted he always had a bad temper with an even worse mouth but this was not him. Maybe he changed overtime.

Bucky didn't even bat an eye over his height's judgement and said. "No, I wasn't stalking you. You were taking too long so Steve told me to check if you were behaving. Now who is she?" Bucky's mouth also turned upwards, his almost green eyes twinkling with mischief as his chocolate hair fell over his forehead. Even if Bucky was on the shorter side, it did nothing to deter his beauty.

Your thoughts were interpreted by the loud snort of Bruce. "Come on, Buck. You are becoming such a pet of our Stevie. I don't know what treats he gives you but they sure look worth it. And as for her?" Bruce turned to you, head cocked with a raised eyebrow.

You sidestepped Bruce and came face to face with Bucky. You told him your name. "People call me Luna, I'm his friend from college."

Bucky let out a breathy chuckle. "Honey, he changed colleges like clothes. You'd have to be more specific."

"Very first college, Buck. You know." Bruce said nonchalantly and your head snapped to glare at him. You were half upset when you thought his brothers didn't know about you but as Bucky's flicked over you and your cheeks heated up. You wanted them to forget about you.

You glanced at Bucky with an awkward smile as realisation dawned on him and his mouth curved in a o shape. He stuck out his hand for you with a warm smile. "Don't worry, doll face. Only I and Bruce know about you and his… friendship." You shook it.

"Bruce, I didn't know she was such a beauty. You should have told us. We would have taken her with us." You and Bucky laughed. However, Bruce only narrowed his eyes and his jaw ticked.

"I should escort her to her room." Bucky said.

"But that's my duty."

"No, Harlan wants to discuss AI so he needs you. Plus, I have a message to deliver to, doll face."

Bruce huffed and nodded reluctantly. All three of you went to the stairs before diverging. However, you still felt Bruce's eyes as you glanced over your shoulder and found him looking longingly at you. You gave him a smile before he disappeared down the stairs.

"So what is the message you have to deliver, Mr. Barnes?" You ask in a whisper.

Bucky suddenly hooked his arm in your and pulled you towards him, making your breath hitch at the closeness as his heady scent made you dizzy.

"It's Bucky Alaïa wants you to meet her in the garden at 5. She wants you to meet Ransom." He whispered back in your ear and you gulped as it sounded like a dark lullaby to your brain.

"O-okay." You stammeredq out as your room finally arrived.

"Bye, bye, doll face." Bucky rasped close to your face and you were almost disappointed that you arrived so quickly.

Now that Bucky had left, his words registered in your brain. Why the fuck did Alaïa want you to meet Ransom? Was she planning on making you a mistress? You should really stop reading those reddit stories.

You dressed into a black, long dress after taking a nice shower and scrubbing away all the dirt and sweat. After shower feeling was the best feeling.

You gilded down the stairs, stepping into the bustling living room. You promptly avoided all of the people and made a beeline for the door leading to the garden. But you stumbled forward, almost falling to the ground as someone had just stepped on your dress. Perfect!

You turned around and your scathing words died an untimely death on your tongue as your eyes landed on the burly man. A phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as his brows were furrowed in concentration and frustration, his pink lips jutting out as his blonde hair made his blue eyes shine even brighter.

Steve Rogers. Even if he looked a tid bit more approachable than his twin, he still wasn't someone to mess with. And if you cussed at him, well then you could say goodbye to your career.

You sighed and tentatively stepped closer to him. Gingerly, you touched his bicep.

"Hey, stay away from him!" A coarse, deep voice thundered, making you shriek away from Steve as it left you shaking with fear.

This caught Steve's attention as he looked at you and then at his right. "Clark, where are your manners? Yelling at a lady? And for no reason?"

Clark hissed but you weren't able to look at him. "Shit, brother. I wasn't yelling at her. The man behind you, he has a knife."

You furrowed your brows and turned behind to a worker holding a knife with a deer caught in headlights look.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him as he quickly stuttered out. "This is to open a package." And tossed the knife to a nearby worker who disappeared to the storage room.

Steve sighed heavily. "Clark, I can defend myself, you know that right? Why do you overreact so much? And did you not see her?" And pointed at you.

Clark replied after a beat of silence. "I genuinely didn't. I'm sorry…" He started walking towards you but you only recoiled into Steve with each step he took.

You didn't want his apology, at least not right now. You were far too shaken to think coherently.

Steve sighed and coiled an arm around your clinging form and caressed your side. "Clark, not right now. She's far too shaken up to not cry or scream at you. Try again, later."

"But, brother-"

"Leave." He said through gritted teeth.

Clark's footsteps faded away as you involuntarily hid in his chest, his earthy scent grounding you as he shushed you. "Hey, doll. It's okay, it's alright. He won't hurt you, no one would. It was just a misunderstanding, stop shaking babydoll." He cooed.

His soft deep voice relaxed you but as soon as the fear was gone, embarrassment burnt your cheeks as you stepped away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… " You rasped. Did you just rub yourself on The Steve Rogers like a needy kitten?

"Don't say that, doll. My brother caused it so I must fix it."

"Thank you and-" You yelped as you descended down the floor. His foot was still on your dress. Great!

You braced yourself for the impact but bounced in two strong arms as your hands flew to his forearms.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was standing on your dress." He said when you snapped your eyes open.

You were swimming in his blue gaze of concern and sincerity. "Yeah, that's what I was trying to say."

"What's your name, doll? Hmmm?" He asked after brought you back to your feet. Your eyes fluttered as his knuckles ran softly over your cheek.

You told him your name.

"Doll is much better, suits you well. Where were you going, anyway?" He quietly asked.

"I-um, I was going to meet Ransom."

"Oh, I was going to meet him as well. Let's go together."

"No, thank you." You politely declined.

"Come with me." He said and dragged you towards the garden.

You talked with Ransom till seven, he wasn't at all like the media projected him. Maybe he changed for Alaïa as he was really committed and determined to do things right. They had your blessings to put your feelings into words.

After Steve dragged you to the garden. He was courteous enough to let you talk to your friend and Ransom privately before he joined.

Then you went to finally meet Harlan and had the overdue talk. He wanted to discuss the latest trends in the writing industry and how to incorporate it in his company's branding. So, that it could appeal to younger audience.

It was a long and draining conversation and you deeply sighed, leaning against the wooden door of Harlan's office. You were finally going to the garden, which you wanted to revisit since you stepped foot in it.

"Miss?"

You gasped at the voice and started for the stairs but Clark's body blocked your path, pushing you against the door.

"I didn't want to scare you." He said, genuinely remorseful.

"You are doing that right now." You snapped and he put up his hands in surrender.

"It's not intentional, I swear."

It might not be. The brothers were tall, except Bucky but Clark was a beast. His biceps were larger than your hand and he practically dwarfed you with his sheer shadow. His eyes were also blue but they had a brown sprinkled in them. He had a little beard with a moustache that made him look even more intimidating and sexy. You had never seen a man who looked this sexy in a moustache.

"Well then be more mindful." You bit back.

He nodded and snaked his hand behind him and pulled out a rose. And not just any rose but a black rose. Where he found it you had no idea but it mesmerized you nonetheless. It was something you had only seen on television and seeing it in real life left you agape.

He offered the rose to you. "I'm sorry, princess." He whispered, the nickname heating up your cheeks.

You gingerly took the rose and let a giddy smile tug on your lips. "Okay, I forgive you. Just remember you are way bigger and stronger than most people. Use your strength wisely." He nodded with a bunny smile and you smiled back before heading to the garden.

You loudly and walked into the garden in peace. Walking in the open at night was another level of tranquillity that you didn't get very often, thanks to your dorm in the concrete jungle.

You twirled the rose in your hand, halting at nearby flowers. You bit your lips wanting to pluck some and put them in a vase. Even though they wouldn't last forever, the contrast would still look appealing.

But you didn't have the permission of any of the Drysdale.

"Couldn't sleep?" A dark baritone voice said from behind.

You flinched and turned around to be greeted by Andy Barber, wearing a simple white tee and sweats. A silver chain peeking through the collar as a smirk danced across his bearded cheeks.

"Pleasure meeting you, Mr. Barber."

"The feeling is mutual, miss. How's your headache now?" He raised a brow.

You told him your name and nickname. "And it's much better now, thanks for asking."

"Hmmm, Luna, so fitting for the person and the setting," He erased the distance between you two in two long strides and glanced at you. "I couldn't blame you. The night is beautiful."

"But the garden is even more beautiful." You said as he glanced at you.

"Indeed."

"I don't get to dwell in the greenery much." You resumed your walking.

"How so?" He followed.

"It's just study, sleep and sometimes relax for me."

"What are you studying?"

"Business, last year."

"Internship."

"Freelance." You said with a shake of your head. Andy somehow liked your presence and so did you. He was like the ocean.

"And won't you ask me about my work?" He teased as you were back behind the bushes of colourful roses.

"I know everything about that, Mr. Barber."

"It's Andy, darling," He said and only then did you notice the distance, or lack thereof between you and him. "And so confident about it, darling?"

You swallowed through your smile. "Well, everybody knows about how your work is going. So I'm pretty confident."

He chuckled. "I like it. Tell me more."

You resisted the urge to narrow your eyes as he seemed way too interested in a mere student and you have also grown tired.

"A black rose?" He voiced suddenly, lifting your hand to examine the item.

"Yes, isn't it unique?"

"That it is. Who gave you this?" He demanded softly.

You hesitated before speaking. "Mr. Kent."

"Who?" Andy asked as if you had told him the answer to the Bermuda Triangle mystery.

"Mr. Kent " You squealed as his thumb brushed the underside of your hand.

"Why?"

"Because he accidentally scared me by screaming."

He huffed out a chuckle. "Typical of Clark," He walked closer to you, ceasing the distance between you two completely. You averted your eyes as the tension grew. "It'll look better with some companions."

His hand went above your head and you gasped as he presented you red, yellow, white and light pink roses.

"Andy, you don't have the permission for that." You breathed and shook your head.

"Oh honey, I have all the permission you need." He said and handed you the roses. "Take them, they'll look good together."

You nodded. "Ah, actually I'm feeling sleepy and I'm kinda an insomniac, so it's an opportunity I can't miss. We'll resume our conversation tomorrow." You lied.

He pondered over your words, making you nervous before he smiled and nodded. "Of course, sleep is important. Especially to a beauty like you."

You offered a parting smile and walked away. You hugged yourself as a chill ran down your spine. It was not because of the cold night but the gaze that bore into you and the dark aura that clung to you, you couldn't shake it off even when you tried.

You felt something would change drastically, what and how. You didn't know.

Taglist: @goldenharrysworld , @magnificentsaladllama , @iloveavengers , @charmed-asylum , @moonstruckbirdie

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hollandorks · 8 months

Text

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter one

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: look a new series! Two things inspired this (besides my everlasting love for the Batman): @bellaxgiornata's angsty Daredevil fic All These Years, and @neutron-stars-collision's Waiting For the Night (which also features an investigative reporter reader, but is set during the film). If you're here because you loved motn, welcome back! If not, check out my other battinson fics here!

(side note: I know this is a reader insert and Dory is canonically white, but reader could be adopted. I never clarify that)

Series Masterlist

word count: 3k

“Both of them are–?” Y/n choked on the last word, unable to get it past the back of her throat. But she thought it anyway. Dead.

It was early, too early, her pajamas and hair still rumpled from sleep. Three hours until her alarm would go off. The faux hardwood floors were cold beneath her feet. The warmth of her bed was a thousand miles away. Her heart still pounded from being woken by a harsh knocking at her door. When she’d checked the time on her phone, she had four hours of missed calls from Alfred and two from an unknown number.

Alfred put a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed. He was the last of her family now, though he didn’t share her blood. “I’m so sorry, darling girl.”

Y/n’s grandmother, Dory, the woman who raised her, gone. Along with her daughter, y/n’s mother, the woman who abandoned her as a child. Both gone in one fell swoop. She can’t find it within herself to grieve too much for the woman who gave her life. She’d already abandoned her, over and over, the grief lessening each time.

But her grandmother–A strangled noise passed her lips and Alfred hurried to step in to embrace her.

“She had a great life,” he said gently. “She lived long and lived well.”

And somehow, it helped. Alfred had been in her grandmother’s life longer than she had, and therefore knew her better. She had lived well, her life long and full. She was eighty-five years old and had still been in relatively good shape, physically and mentally.

Alfred held her while she cried, the minutes stretching long yet sharp. They pierced her over and over, each one a moment in which her grandmother no longer existed. She didn’t know how long she cried, only that it was nearly impossible to stop.

“Bruce is covering all expenses, of course,” Alfred said as he released her.

The name raced through her like a bolt of electricity. Bruce. Of course she had to see Bruce. Dory had worked for his family for nearly fifty years, after all. Her mind flashed back to her last conversation with Bruce, almost three years ago to the day. Hurt washed over her all over again. This one was different than the grief but just as sharp.

“That’s…too kind.” It’s the best she could do. Besides, her income as a journalist in Bludhaven wasn’t exactly enough to cover one funeral, let alone two. So she couldn’t tell Bruce to take his money and shove it. She knew it was a gesture of obligation not of goodwill.

“You know you and Dory are our family,” Alfred said, his familiar accent a balm to her nerves. He hadn’t missed the almost visceral reaction to Bruce’s name. He had always known, even though he hadn’t ever said a word.

She almost scoffed at the word family, but held it back at the last moment. Alfred was her family. Just as Bruce had been her family, once.

I don’t have time for you, he’d practically snarled the last time she saw him.

The words still ached.

“Do you want to drive back with me?” Alfred asked, his voice pulling her from thoughts of the past. “Or I can get a hotel for the night if you need time to pack.”

She hesitated. Part of her wanted to refuse, to wait until the absolute last minute to leave, to delay seeing Bruce again for as long as possible. But she owed it to her grandmother, at least, to be present for the plans honoring her life. And she was sure she needed to sign some paperwork to have the bodies released.

Bodies. It’s a shock to think of them that way. Two people, two souls, reduced to shells in one accident.

Her mind jumped to her last conversation with Dory, the previous Sunday. Four days ago. Now she was simply…gone. Had she told her she loved her? She couldn’t remember now, no matter how hard she tried.

The ache was back, the tears flowing without her express permission.

“No, let me just–grab a bag and we can go now. I’ll call work on the way.” It helped to have a manageable list of things to do. Pack. Go with Alfred. Call work. Sign papers. One step, one breath, one moment at a time. Which would be the same way she would handle seeing Bruce again.

Thankfully the editor of The Bludhaven Tribune was more friend than boss and would completely understand. Besides, if it came down to it, she had a couple of weeks of unused vacation time saved up. Dory had always made the trip to her–at least for the past three years. She had understood the need to stay away from Gotham and the man who had broken y/n’s heart. So her vacation days were rarely used.

Within an hour, y/n’s bags were packed and a fresh cup of coffee was waiting in the cupholder of Alfred’s car. The cold air was a shock to her overloaded system. Her chest was too tight, her breathing labored. She couldn’t tell what was hurting worse–the grief for her grandmother or the anxiety of seeing Bruce again.

A silly, hopeless crush, he’d said three years ago.

A silly, hopeless crush that still hadn’t gone away, despite the fact that he’d effectively ground her heart to dust beneath his heel with the words.

A few minutes into the drive, another question bubbled to the surface. “Alfred…” she began, unsure how to find the bravery to ask. “Did she suffer? Did they suffer?” Because, as many times as her mother had broken her heart, she was still her mother.

Alfred was quiet so long that she feared the worst. But then, finally, “I don’t believe so, no. Your mother was driving. Dory was the passenger, where the impact was. And before you ask, your mother was clean.”

She did flinch this time.

It had been her first thought. She was glad of the answer though, twisted as it sounded.

She knew exactly why they were driving together. Because she used to take her grandmother to her appointments, but after leaving Gotham three years ago…it became harder and harder to make the time in the middle of the week.

And, surprisingly, y/n’s mother had stepped in. She wanted to make amends, her grandmother had told her. She’d scoffed at that, but couldn’t deny the relief that had washed over her. She loved her grandmother, but having to pick her up from Wayne Tower was a particular kind of torture. The place held too many memories, both good and bad, now so inextricably linked that the pain bled into the happier memories.

“How long has it been since you’ve been back?” Alfred asked quietly, as if reading her mind.

Her hands knotted in her lap. “In Gotham or…?” She let the rest of the question hang in the air. Or at Wayne Tower? Or in Bruce Wayne’s presence? Because all three had slightly different answers.

Alfred gave her a look before turning his attention back to the road.

Y/n sighed softly. “Three years, give or take a few weeks.”

“You never came inside when picking up Dory?”

“No.” Her heart clenched with pain. “That’s why my mother…”

Alfred nodded in understanding. “Maybe this can be…a new beginning,” he finally said. “Things are different. I think he needs you more than either of you realize.”

No need to ask who he was. She wanted to roll her eyes, but Alfred meant well. Of course he wanted her and Bruce to make up, to go back to the way things were.

He didn’t know how thoroughly Bruce Wayne broke her heart.

“Then Bruce can apologize.” She crossed her arms. Because, as much as she still loved him, Bruce had been in the wrong, not her. It had taken him a long time to turn his anger on her, but he finally had…right after she had confessed her feelings for him.

Y/n spent the rest of the drive in silence, the grief for her grandmother numbing her inside and out even as it warred with the anxiety gnawing at her gut.

She thought about how it would feel to step into Wayne Tower again. How it would feel to step inside and not be greeted with a warm embrace from her grandmother. With her love. With her understanding. With her gentle manipulations to get her to help her with the housekeeping duties for free.

A few tears slipped out. God, she was gone. Y/n would never again hug her or speak to her or have her tell a story to help her fall asleep–something that happened even as an adult. Something she had done to help ease the heartbreak of three years ago.

She startled as a hand took hers. Alfred said nothing, merely squeezed.

When she looked up, the city of Gotham was spread before her. She saw the neon lights from Gotham Square Garden near the city center, bright despite the early morning hour. Fog wound its way through the streets, a proper gloomy Gotham welcome to suit her mood.

Though Bludhaven wasn’t far, it was much sunnier than the city of her birth.

In the past year since the flood, Gotham became even gloomier. The streets were dirtier, darker, half the streetlights still broken. She remembered suddenly, vividly, the fear she’d felt upon hearing the news. She’d been called into work late at night last November. The office had been chaotic, frantic, Gotham’s nearest big city neighbor gearing up to help but also to tell the stories.

Y/n is ashamed to admit that her first thought hadn’t been of her grandmother.

It was of Bruce.

Alfred, she had known, had been safe in the top floors of the hospital. She’d returned from a visit only the day before. The panic from the news of the explosion, caused by a serial killer, had barely worn off. Even after seeing Alfred was okay with her own eyes, she felt a lingering panic. Even after Alfred told her that Bruce hadn’t been home at the time and was perfectly fine.

But Bruce–and by extension Dory–were unknown variables in the flooding. Had they been evacuated? Had either been present for the new mayor’s event? Had they remained safe in the tower, partially blown up as it was?

She had waited sixteen excruciating hours before finally hearing that they were safe. Unharmed, even.

The air around y/n suddenly darkened. While she was daydreaming of the past, they had reached their destination. Alfred pulled into the private, street level parking garage reserved for family only. There were several other cars there, including Bruce’s favorite classic sports car. The sight of the car alone made her chest ache.

Y/n stared vacantly at the car. She startled as Alfred suddenly opened her door with her bags in his hand.

She blinked slowly, dazed.

It was too much to deal with. Losing her family, coming back to Gotham, back to Bruce…She wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. It felt like eons since the Alfred at her door woke her, though it was only a couple of hours at most.

As she followed Alfred to the private elevator, she wondered if Bruce would avoid her. If he would hide from the uncomfortable as he so often did. Part of her hoped he did. Part of her hoped she could get through everything without seeing him. But that was stupid. He would be, at the very least, at the funerals.

Another wave of grief nearly knocked her over. She had to bury the last bit of blood relations she had. Had. The past tense was another unavoidable wave threatening to drown her. Her mother and grandmother both only existed in the past now.

Y/n suddenly realized that that was how Bruce had been feeling for two decades. The feeling of being utterly alone in the universe, no one but himself left with his family name, his family legacy. But his was worse, so much worse. She had, at least, had her family for twice as long as he had. And that counted for something.

The elevator ride was long and slow. Or maybe that was grief and panic warping time until she had no idea if the ride had just started or was about to end. Despite getting almost seven hours of sleep from a rare early night, she was exhausted. Her limbs were made of lead, her eyes heavy, her brain begging to be switched off.

The smell alone, the particular blend of dust and old paper, was enough to make her knees weak. Ten thousand memories flooded back all at once, so many of them that she couldn’t fixate on any single one.

The doors slid open and Alfred stepped out with her bags.

But she had to press a hand to the wall of the elevator to steady herself as a familiar deep voice rang out in the silence. “That was fast,” Bruce said. God, his voice. “Did she decide to stay until the last moment then?”

Alfred didn’t answer, because y/n’s presence stepping from the elevator was enough.

Her heart was somewhere in her throat, or maybe her knees. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t. She couldn’t bear to look at him and see the indifference he now felt for her. She couldn’t look at him and hold a thousand more memories.

She couldn’t look at him and love him, knowing he didn’t feel the same.

The silence was deafening and finally, finally, she tore her eyes from the floor and looked up.

There was a rush in her ears as she beheld him for the first time in three years. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of a pair of dark, well-worn jeans. His shirt was too big for him and his hair–his hair was longer. Her eyes skipped over him hungrily, noticing more and more differences in the person she used to know better than herself.

He was taller, for one. She thought men stopped growing at twenty-five years old, or something like that. Or maybe it was the way he held himself, like he was more sure of his place in the world. And his shoulders were more broad, his arms more muscular. Bruce had all at once become…a man. Not that he hadn’t been a man three years before, but something about him was…more.

There were heavy bags beneath his eyes, like he hadn't slept. And, she supposed, if he was the one who had answered the call about her grandmother and mother, he likely hadn’t.

She realized that they both had been staring at each other in silence. Alfred half-stepped out of the foyer like he couldn’t decide whether or not to give them privacy or stay to make sure they wouldn’t tear out each others’ throats. She wondered what Bruce had told him about their fight. Had it been the truth? Or had he played it close to the vest, like always?

“Hi,” she finally said. Her mouth was dry and her voice cracked on the word. There was so much she wanted to say to him. Thank you and I’m sorry and I still love you even if you hate me were all warring to be first.

“Hi,” he said back. His blue eyes pinned her to the spot. They seemed bluer, or maybe she had forgotten the exact shade of them. She wanted to close her eyes and sink into the familiar comfort of him, but those days were far gone. Three years gone.

“I–” She wasn’t sure what words would come out but the need to fill the silence was too great.

He beat her to it. “I’m so sorry,” he said. She knew he meant about her family and not about three years before. She knew it in the way she knew most things about him, born of the sheer amount of time they spent together throughout their lives. Even with three years separating their last interaction, she could still read him. Maybe not as well as she used to but still well enough.

She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. She couldn’t say It’s okay, because it wasn’t. Or, I missed you, even though she did. Or even Thank you, because he hadn’t done anything other than offer to pay for the funerals.

“Your old room is ready,” Bruce said and his eyes flickered away. Was he so tired of her already?

I don’t have time for you and your silly, useless crush. The words seemed to echo in the air. Was he able to hear them too?

“Who–”

“She kept it ready for you,” Bruce said and his voice softened, easing the blow.

A stray tear escaped.

Of course she had. Y/n’s grandmother was nothing if not optimistic.

She had to take a breath and close her eyes against the wash of pain. Dory had kept her room ready for her, even knowing that Bruce Wayne broke her heart, even knowing she wouldn’t step foot inside Wayne Tower again unless absolutely necessary.

As always, y/n’s grandmother had ensured that she always had a place to come home to. You’ll always have a home with me, she had said the day y/n left Gotham.

She stepped away, eyes still closed, feet knowing the way by heart. When she opened them, she saw Bruce’s hand fall, as if he had reached out, perhaps to comfort her.

The pain of that missing touch was too much.

She simply nodded once.

And then she fled.

Her childhood bedroom was exactly as she had left it three years ago, free of dust, the linens on the bed so fresh she could still smell the detergent.

She threw herself onto the bed and finally let herself cry.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld

#the batman x reader #battinson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #the batman 2022 #battinson #the batman #bruce wayne #batman x fem!reader #battinson x fem!reader #battinson x y/n #battinson x you #robert pattinson batman #robert pattinson bruce wayne #reader insert #x reader #haven #haven fic

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a-fandom-reimagined · 9 months

Text

ALL OF YOU | BRUCE WAYNE X PLUS SIZE GN! READER (FT. ALFRED)

୨୧ type: fluff & angst | word count: 887 | tw: sfw, mentions of bullying but no actual descriptions of what was said or done. please enjoy

→ please note that I don't think I've ever written anything for a gn reader before so if I messed anything up (like how i couldn't figure out what the gn alternative for master/miss is) I apologize

requested: omg okay, idk if you would want to write this but; since i can't find ANY battinson x plus size reader stuff, could i request a battinson x gn plus size reader where bruce discovers his partner being insecure about themselves and tries to cheer them up? this would be angst mixed with fluff if that's okay with you :>

Everything is fine, you told yourself.

The limo pulled away from the curb merging into early morning rush hour. The annual Wayne Foundation Ball had ran hours longer than you'd intended. And as host, you couldn’t leave early. No matter how much you'd wanted to. You relaxed into your lover's embrace, drinking in his cologne. Basking in his warmth. It was the most relaxed you'd felt all evening.

You were almost asleep when Bruce's voice dragged you back to reality. "What's wrong?"

You opened your eyes. "Nothing." You couldn't even manage a smile to better sell the lie.

Tonight was supposed to be your night. And they took it from you…

Bruce frowned. "Don't lie to me. We're better than that."

You were better than that. And now you had shame to add to the long list of emotions weighing you down.

They were just words. Everything is fine.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck. You didn't want to talk about it. Not with him. But you couldn't lie to him either.

Your fiancé kissed the top of your head, hugging you tighter. "Talk to me. Did someone hurt you? Did something happen?"

"It doesn't matter. It's not important."

"It's bothering you so it does matter and it is important. You've been talking non-stop about this Gala. You've been planning it for months. What happened?"

You pulled back to wet eyes and a broken smile. Bruce's jaw ticked, his expression chillingly blank. Bruce usually kept this side of himself hidden away from you. Was this the version of him that went out to hunt bad guys every night? Or was this just a small sliver of him?

"Sir, not to interrupt but would you like me to turn the car around?"

You'd forgotten the partition was down. Alfred's voice was low and clipped. Almost unrecognizable from the sassy, well-mannered man who'd been like a father to you over the past four years.

"I'll let you know." answered Bruce before returning his attention to you. "Please." he said softly.

You shook your head. "It's so silly. They were just words."

"What did they say? Who said it?"

You sighed heavily. He wasn't going to let this go. And it was stupid of you to try to hide it from him. The World's Greatest Detective… The World's Most Attentive Fiancé was more like it. "The…people at the gala were mean to me," you admitted in a small broken voice. You hated the way you sounded. You hated even more that you'd let it get to you. "There. I told you. They were mean to me tonight and they said awful things about my weight, how much I ate at dinner. One woman gave some diet pills she swears by in the bathroom. It shouldn't bother me. It's not like I haven't experienced this before. I am a plus-sized person, I know that but…I don't know. These people gather every year to give away exorbitant amounts of money to make Gotham a better, safer place to live. I don't know, I guess I just expected better. Dumb, I know."

"It's not dumb."

"But it is! Bruce, you put on a mask every night and go face down real villains. Real villains that cause real pain with real weapons."

Bruce's jaw dropped. It took a lot to shock him. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has to do with everything because they're just words, Bruce, not bullets! And I let them get to me. I've been miserable all night. That's why you caught me in the hallway tonight. I didn't get lost, I just got down crying in a broom closet and I was walking around and waiting for my eyedrops to kick in and hide the redness! Now, can we please just drop it and forget that this ever happened?"

"No we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you feel like you can't confide in me just because of who I am and what I do at night. They're not just words, Y/N these people bullied you. You worked your ass off to make this Gala the success it was. We've never raised this much money in a single night before and it was because of you. Y/N I don't care how minor or unimportant you think it is. You don't have to get roundhouse kicked into a dumpster for your feelings to be valid."

You swallowed a laugh. "When in the world did you get roundhouse kicked into a dumpster?"

Bruce smiles. "That's the point. The point is your feelings are valid. And you can come to me with any of them."

"And I as well, *[Master/Miss] Y/N."

You breathed easy for the first time that night, And smiled for the first time that night. "Thank you. Both of you."

Bruce smiled back, pressing his forehead to yours. "Feel better?"

You nodded.

"Good. Because you're going to tell me the name of everyone who bothered you tonight. And then Batman is going to toilet paper their house and slash their fucking tires."

You barked out a laugh.

Bruce pulled you even closer leaving a trail of kisses from your temple to your collarbone. "You're perfect just the way you are, my heart. All of you."

REQUESTED! | REQUESTS: ALWAYS OPEN | REBLOG DON’T REPOST | MASTERLIST

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spideyanakin · 9 months

Text

I know probably nobody cares but this is genuinely one of the playlists I am most proud of

I cannot explain how I think this fits him so well. Like fits dating him and the vibe of every Battinson fan fiction out there. I feel so in the mood listening to this and reading or writing battinson fics

Here’s the link

Pov: you’re in love with Bruce Wayne

Thank you for hearing my rambles…

Also hope you like this playlist

#bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #battinson x reader #battinson #battinson x you #battinson x y/n #battinson imagine #batman x you #batman x y/n #bruce Wayne playlist #batman

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h0wv3ry · 1 year

Text

vigilante shit

summary: in which you help your boyfriend, bruce wayne, put on his batman makeup

pairing: battinson x gn reader

availaible on ao3

warnings: beginning of sexual things

word count: 577

author’s note: had this idea while i was putting on my battinson halloween costume. it’s short sorry

“Hold still!”

You yelled, holding Bruce’s face still with one hand and with the other, a paint brush with black paint. You stood, overtopping him. The only time you ever towered over him was when he sat in a chair. Bruce gave a rare smile that Alfred said only happens when you’re around him. You laughed as you strengthened your grip and the paint brush touched his pale skin. Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” played through the speakers. You hummed to it as you moved the brush back and forth.

“You know, it doesn’t need to look perfect. No one is going to see the rest of my face.” He chuckled as you leaned over to the palette on the table to get more black paint. You brushed some of the excess paint off the lid before painting more of Bruce’s face.

You said. “Hey, if I don’t fill in these spots, you’ll look off putting.”

“I think me dressed like a bat is already off putting to the criminals.”

You shrugged as you moved to work on the other eye. “Whatever, I still want it to look good.”

Bruce was about to roll his eyes, but he stopped himself, knowing you would be pissed if he moved. “Anything you do is great.”

“Thanks, babe, I try.” You smirked at him as you let go of his face and he stared directly at you. You examined him, trying to figure out if you missed any spots however, you ended up looking at all of him. His sparkling green eyes, his dark, black hair that needed a wash and his muscles that you wanted him to grab you with. You smiled, thankful for him.

“What? Did you miss a spot?” Bruce asked.

“No, no, nothing.” You blushed as you went over to the table, grabbed the mascara, and held it up. “Now for the mascara.”

You walked back towards Bruce as you took out the mascara brush. “You should wear mascara more often.”

“Why?”

You leaned over him as his eyes shut. You began to draw a black line over his right eyelid “You would look good with it. Some black eyeshadow too. It would bring out your eyes.”

“Where would I wear it?”

You shrugged, finishing the eyeliner on the other side and put the brush back in its container. “I don’t know. When you go out, once and a while.”

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer to him. “On our dates?”

You bit your lips while looking down at him. “Maybe.”

His hands forced you down more, pulling you into a kiss. You two continued to kiss as you moved your hands through his hair. Bruce and you parted but only a few seconds as he brought his legs together and you sat on him, balancing yourself by putting your legs on each side of the chair. You wrapped your arms around him. He brought his lips to your neck, and you breathed. You knew that you two needed to stop so that he could leave.

“Hey…”

You unwrapped your arms reluctantly and he took his lips off your shoulder.

You frowned. “You have to go do vigilante shit.”

He sighed as you hopped off his legs. He stood up, towering over you and grabbed your chin.

“When I get back.”

He laid one kiss on your lips before he got onto his bike and disappeared into the night.

#battinson x reader #battinson x y/n #battinson x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #battinson #robert pattinson #gn reader #the batman #the batman 2022 fanfic #the batman 2022

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imagine--if · 2 years

Note

hi! can you do a bruce wayne x reader fic where reader calls bruce pretty and he ends up blushing? just a whole lot of fluff? tysm i love ur writing <3

A/N: He’s pretty as hecc 😍 just LoOk At HiS mOoDy LiL fACe 😂💕

Pairing: Battinson x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: Fluff 🖤

Words: 242

At this moment, he's completely unguarded, as he leans against your side, burying himself into your warmth with a small, relieved sigh. Bruce always gets like this after being Batman for the night, somehow convinced that you've been hurt or a little too vulnerable for the hours he hasn't been with you. But you're completely unharmed, of course, and smile softly as you brush your fingers through his dark locks that curtain and shape his face perfectly.

"Bruce," you speak up quietly, your fingers tracing his jawline as they come away from his hair, and he hums, refusing to move from his cuddled up position by your side. "Bruce, baby, look at me."

And so he does, earnest, deep brown eyes gazing into yours in tired attentiveness. Your smile grows as you rest your forehead against his, returning the embrace properly.

"You're so pretty."

Bruce's eyes widen a fraction at the compliment, his cheeks tinting a light pink in his newly flustered state. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it, a small, bashful smile tugging at his lips.

"Not as pretty as you," he mumbles so softly you almost miss it, and grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the crook. He lets out a large breath, pulling you into his lap and cradling you as if you're the most precious thing in the world... and, to Bruce Wayne, that's exactly what you are.

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ladyelissarose · 2 years

Text

Part of.. “Living In The Lyrics”

Perfect

Song- ‘Perfect’ by Ed Sheeran

Battinson x reader

Summary: Bruce never knew his childhood friend was after all his soulmate for life. (FLUFFFFF)

I found a love, for me

Darling just dive right in

And follow my lead

Well, I found the girl, beautiful and sweet

I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

In the crisp air of the spring night, while barefooted on the soft green grass Bruce stood face to face with his childhood best friend, Y/n Y/l/n, or who was now, Y/n Wayne. Taking in her beautiful countenance as it glowed with the moonlight shining upon her, he took a deep breath as he lifted a small but loving smile. If he had asked himself as a kid when he met his best friend, that if years later would he marry her, he would’ve said no. For Y/n held a very different personality than from him, she grew up with her father after her mother left them for another man, but either way she was bubbly and happy, always wearing bright colors with her hair bouncing everywhere when she ran around with undeniable joy.

While Bruce on the other hand, after he lost his both parents, he became depressed and a loner, changed his personality drastically to always wanting to be silent and wearing dark colors, it was like a sign saying he was still mourning his loss. He was classmates with Y/n sense kindergarten, they both attended a top notch school, both of their parents were rich of course so they placed their children in the best school with harsh but great education. But after Bruce parents died he insisted that he be homeschooled, he didn’t want to face the public, their questions were overwhelming and the stares bothered him, he also didn’t feel like being surrounded by other kids his age that were loud and annoying to him, he just wanted to be alone with Alfred, his mentor and butler. But nonetheless his best friend always came by his house and helped him out with homework, bringing back and forth his assignments as well. Before the tragedy stroke Bruce and Y/n were always playful and getting into messes at the galas they attend with their parents, but sense Bruce was the Prince of Gotham he never got in trouble for it, and because he was best friends with Y/n, he made sure she was safe with him, and never got scolded either.

Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was

I will not give you up this time

Darling just kiss me slow

Your heart is all I own

And I your eyes, you’re holding mine

He had a feeling for her that he didn’t know was actually love, all he knew was that when she was with him he was happy and safe, he trusted her with his whole heart and gave it to no other. He called his strong feelings for her a good friendship, a great friendship actually, because no matter who he was or who she was, Y/n was either way a humbled person and gave a helping hand to those who needed it. She never let her riches and fathers high position in the city go through her head. Y/n always invited Bruce to go with her and they volunteered at shelters and places where they helped the poor, ever sense they were a little kids, being a great demonstration of what a good person is, at least their parents told them so. But as they were growing older Bruce only was in Y/n’s presence when he felt extremely lonely or that he wanted to play chess or something that kept the area quiet but with company, but she either way kept him lively with small talk, refusing to let him drown in his own sorrow. Deep in her heart she had a safe place for him to stay, with hurt and all she stood by his side regardless of the rough times he gave her sometimes when he let his pain get to him. She felt the hit too with Bruce’s parents died, she was close with Martha, Bruce’s mother, only because she didn’t have one herself, she was alone with her father for most of her life growing up. But she refused to compare her pain with his, so when she came around, Y/n made it a point to get him up and moving around, also getting some sun on the few occasions that Gotham wasn’t pouring rain. Or at night she take him around in the garden at the balcony of the Manor as they listened to a soft but favorite melody of theirs, she made sure he was barefooted too, saying that it was good for his feet to feel something other than the shoes and hard floor he walked on daily. But that all came to a stop once they both went to college, Y/n went to Harvard to get a degree in Law, while Bruce went his separate way to study on his own, but his choices of majors were always a mess and he couldn’t make up his mind. So he always took classes here and there, switching them up as he got bored. Their strong friendship tore apart little by little as they lost touch and lived their own lives like if they never knew each other. But that was Bruce’s fault, Y/n always sent him letters and tried to call him, but he left to dust his incoming letters and never picked up the phone, even less when he started the Gotham Project. Keeping up with the crimes in the city as well as his own life made him forget Y/n almost completely. Which soon he regretted, when he felt that he needed her the most on nights that haunted his mind with the past.

Baby, I’m, dancing in the dark, with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, we’re listening to our favorite song

When you said you looked a mess,

I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it, darling you look perfect tonight

Bruce twirled Y/n around watching her white gown flow in the wind as she wore a happy smile of satisfaction and joy. Her soft and warm hands were soft against his face as she cradled it, with a look of admiration. Seeing her like this reminded him of the night he saw her again, after not seeing her for almost 3 years. It was at a Charity Gala of course, Alfred had insisted he go, saying that making a public appearance was good for him, as well as try to socialize with different people. On the other hand Y/n had just returned from university, and her father welcomed her back with the offer of joining him at the Gala, saying it would be fun and something that wasn’t books and work. So she went after much convincing.

Oddly enough both of them received attention and warm welcomes, but neither felt comfortable or exactly happy, deep in their hearts they knew something was missing, but they didn’t know just what yet. Until the late night drew in as the moon shined brightly in the sky, blending with the Gotham clouds that spread across the sky hiding the stars, Bruce decided he needed a break from the crowd, he was so lost the entire time, stumbling on his words and shying away from the prying paparazzi. He figured that if he escaped to the balcony of the elegant building, he’d be alone. But he was so wrong, someone was already there. He didn’t know who just yet though,

until the suppose stranger turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps. At seeing her face Bruce took in a deep breath as his heart squeezed in his chest, he simply breathed out her name,

“Y/n?”

“Bruce!”

Without second though Y/n threw her arms around Bruce’s neck embracing him with all her might, and she mumbled into his ear,

“I missed you.”

Star-struck of her reaction to seeing him again caught Bruce off guard, he thought she was going to storm off and leave him like he did her, but instead she was digging her head into the crook of his neck as she tightened her arms on him, as if she was afraid that if she let go it would all crumble apart or just not be real at all.

Bruce finally wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her slightly off the ground, her backless dress let his hands roam across her bare skin that was soft and warm under his cold and calloused hands. He felt like crying, braking down and just overall confessing how sorry he was, for leaving her to dry and forgetting how she was there for him sense day one, but instead he pulled her away and planted a kiss to the corner of her plump red lips, letting his kiss linger there as he decided what to do next, or what the right thing to say, his hand was holding her waist tightly as the other held her chin up, he then felt him thumb wet where it was resting on her chin and he opened his eyes to see that his best friend was crying, the moon glistened off her wet cheeks as she looked up at him with a hint of pain and hope in her eyes, her voice lowered as she asked,

“Why did you never call back? Or send a letter.. I waited day and night for even the smallest thing.. but I never got a word-“

“i’m so sorry-“

“Bruce Wayne I’m not asking you to be sorry, I’m asking you.. why didn’t you call back?”

His gaze left her eyes as it hurt him to see his best friend crying because of him, but he found the true courage that was hidden deep inside his broken heart to confess...

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I’ll share her home

I found a lover, to carry more than just my secrets,

To carry love, to carry children of our own

“because I’ve loved you all my life.. and still do, because you’re the strongest person I know.. you’ve kept me on my feet, whether it was on the grass at my place or on the wet pavement as we danced in the rain.. but, I never helped you out. Never comforted your pain, I hid away and only took and took from you.. I had to realize that my fear of losing you was really looking like I was using you for your goodness and healed heart. When in reality all I wanted was to be with you forever.. and when you left off college, I figured that by then you had probably found someone else, to be your friend.. and lover. And I couldn’t bare the thought of discovering the fact that maybe you were never coming back home.. coming home to me.. you’re my home Y/n, so yes, I didn’t ever reach you again or called back, because I was scared of what could’ve been the truth, the truth of you moving on.. I know it sounds selfish and stupid. But please don’t doubt my love for you, it’s all I’ll ever be sure off.”

Y/n reached out her hands to grab Bruce’s into hers, she let out a sigh as she leaned her forehead against his his, closing her eyes she confessed,

“Bruce.. I’ve been your friend and lover all my life, I wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world. You’re my home too, we both lost something big in our lives.. and as much as it burned my chest to know that we could never fight to get them back, I had to fight to keep what I still had, which was you. Why do you think I showed up everyday? Everyday, to talk to you, play with you, sing and dance Bruce, oh and for Christ’s sake teach you how to cook, though we ended up almost burning down Alfred’s kitchen.”

That made a short giggle leave Bruce’s lips at the mention of that core memory, that was definitely a story for another time. Y/n opened her eyes and looked at Bruce’s large hands locking in with her fingers as she brushed his knuckles, they were covered in faded bruises, now looking back at him she whispered in his ear,

‘I know your secret.. but it’s been safe with me sense you’ve started.’

His eyes snapped to hers as he debated the fact of being convinced that she really knew or not, until she added,

‘The only person I know who’s favorite animal is a bat.. is you. As well as I have your face memorized from years of knowing you.. the mask hides nothing from me..’

She then sent him a wink and before Bruce could spill the truth more about his secrets with her Y/n pulled him by the collar for a real, and deep kiss. His hands drifted to her back pressing her closer to him, locking her in between his arms as she still held his collar kissing him like her life depended on it. Feeling each other smile through the kiss they pulled away for air after what felt like an eternity of kissing another’s lips. Y/n beamed with a smile as he wiped her drying tears, they giggled as they embraced again. Feeling that feeling they felt when they locked eyes for the first times years ago, full of love and innocence.

We are still kids, but we’re so in love,

Fighting against all odds,

I know we’ll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand,

Be my girl, I’ll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

His mind coming back to the present he felt Y/n tug on his collar as she asked him lovingly,

“A penny for your thought my husband?”

Sending her a warm smile he answered truthfully,

“Just thinking about the first time you kissed me Mrs. Wayne.. my one and only perfect wife... “

“You’re too cute.. my perfect husband.”

That comment sent him scoffing in disbelief as he doubted himself,

“Perfect.. dear, I don’t think so.. I fight crime everyday.. dressed like a damn bat.. then I have a terrible sleep schedule, I sometimes cave myself in and lose it.. I get shy and don’t know how to tell you how I exactly feel.. you’ve basically become my therapist.. and I only eat when your there if not I only nibble on blueberries... I still don’t know how you said yes. What could be so perfect about me.. you on the other hand are flawless?”

“Oh baby... maybe you feel like you’re not perfect enough for this world.. but to me, you’re perfect enough.. what you see as flaws I see as perfection.. I said yes.. because that’ll be my answer for everything and forever.. Yes, to let you cry on me, yes, to spoon feed you when I find out that you haven’t been eating well, yes, to stitch up your scars every time you come home from patrol, yes, to remind you every day that what you do for the city as both the Batman and Bruce Thomas Wayne is enough and appreciated, yes, to go through life with you in sickness and health, the good and bad.. and lastly but not least, I say yes, to tell you day and night and every second I can that I love you, that I’m madly in love with you. When I see you Bruce, I see my future shining in your baby blues. So yes, once again.. you’re perfect to me.”

Baby, I’m dancing in the dark

With you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass

Listening to our favorite song

I have faith in what is see

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

I don’t deserve this...

You look perfect tonight

“Thank you.. for believing in me dear, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

“You’re welcome Bruce...”

Bruce continued to dance with her as they talked about the future, to him Y/n was his perfect angel, and to her.. Bruce was her perfect Bat.. they both had wings and flew together, trials of course would come into their lives, they both knew it, but that only made them come closer, to stand through it all. Maybe to the world they weren’t the perfect couple, but in the Wayne family, inside the walls, they learned that through acceptance came perfection.

#bruce wayne #the batman #robert pattinson #bruce wayne x reader #the batman 2022 #battinson #batman #bruce wayne imagine #battinson x y/n #battinson x reader #batman fluff #battinson fluff #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne fluff #batman x reader #perfect #batman comics #dc batman #battinson x you

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twinklelilstarkey · 2 years

Text

Making Headlines [Part 16]

Words: 4.4k+ Summary: The truth comes up. Warnings: Rich people being their privileged selves. Fem!Reader. Lying/being lied to for years. Lack of proofreading - I did the best I could. Parts: Prologue, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen [Series Masterlist]

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

You've noticed how your sleep has been getting lighter with time. You’ve started finding yourself waking up to the soft sound of the rain hitting the windows, a little bit of a harsher wind hitting the glass, and, especially, whenever he’s walking through your apartment.

Only after noticing the familiar pattern of the steps on your hardwood floors or tiles, and possibly speaking to him for mere seconds, your sleep goes back to being how it usually is, deeper and heavier.

And, just as expected, tonight, you get to wake up with that exact noise. You keep your eyes closed, listening to Bruce's steps getting closer to your bedroom. You wait it out, and the sound stops as you assume he has gotten to your bedroom door.

In no time, you feel the bed dip next to you and a hand is laid on your hip. You open your eyes and stare back at him. Bruce’s hair has a few drops of water from the rain, his clothes are their usual black and the rest of his face is lost in the room’s darkness. He's sitting just beside your laying body, at the side of the bed.

You lay your land on top of his on your hip and look up to your bedside table, checking the time.

“You did not just wake me up at 3:30AM.” You whisper at him.

You hear his exhale through his nose, obviously finding your complaint amusing, and look back at him. He moves his head, not noticing your stare, and looks out of the large windowed wall of your bedroom. You watch him as the city lights escape through the crack of your curtains and illuminate his face for you.

Bruce is more than distracted. The lights in the distance are able to almost bring him into a trance, and you’re not able to pull him out of it. You look out as well, trying to understand what he’s looking at, but before you do, Bruce looks away and smooths his hand over your side.

“You better go to sleep.” You tell him. “I have an early meeting tomorrow, and you are not ruining my mood for that.”

He doesn’t answer verbally again but he does get back up from the bed. You notice the way your skin loses warmth as his hand is pulled away and watch as his figure moves before you. You watch him, almost lost in the dark room, and he pulls his shirt off himself, as well as the rest of his clothes.

When Bruce lays down on the bed, you’re quick to get closer. Your eyes meet for just a little bit, and Bruce is unable to see a lot of your face as he’s the one facing the light this time. You watch him, though, without a problem, and it’s ridiculous how easy it is to see it.

Another bruise. One just right at the end of his jaw. One someone probably wouldn't even notice if his skin wasn’t so fair or, really, if they weren’t looking to find one - just like you do.

Your hand lifts and lays near the bruised skin, your fingers carefully brushing over it. Bruce stares at your dark shadowed form as you do it, all while he curses himself out in his head for not even trying to hide the bruise he absolutely forgot that he had. He doesn’t freeze or get ready to get bombarded with questions, he knows you won’t ask anything. You have never done that, and he knows that you’ve seen every single one of them.

Maybe Bruce should feel guilty for not telling you the truth, but, deep down, he knows that he doesn’t feel this way because he will tell you the truth eventually. Only when the time seems right and whenever things calm down in both of your lives. Only then he will tell you and he does not have one thought that could ever make him change his mind about this.

He will have to endure your comforting and silence about his scars and his bruises until then and endure the possibility of any feeling of pity or worry as well. He will have to see the way you stare at them as you always do and then the way you force yourself to look away and act normal. The way your smooth hands move comfortingly past them. So softly that Bruce swears the pain disappears when he feels them.

Your acrylic nails brush through his hair next, all of it as your way of faking ever noticing the bruise on his face. Bruce quickly lifts his head off the pillow and lays his lips against yours. Your head continues to rest on your pillow as your lips move against his, and your hand on his hair moves to the nape of his neck.

The kiss is soft and careful for both of you. Bruce lays his arm beside your body, hovering over you more comfortingly, and your back now lays on the bed. Your lips separate, and the two of you directly stare at one another. Only one visible side of both your faces, but enough for the two of you.

Your fingers move through the shorter strands of Bruce’s hair,, and you notice him looking over to your bedside table. He closes the space between you one more time and kisses you.

When separating on this one kiss, Bruce won't have you awake for any more minutes due to tomorrow’s events on your schedule. So, he lays back down beside you. Not yet comfortable with the position, and before you can even process it, Bruce flips you with him and makes you lay half of your body on his.

One of your hands lay over his chest, and Bruce’s arm holds you securely close to him. You close your eyes, ignoring all of your possible saddening thoughts, and force yourself to feel your need to rest. Bruce stares out of the window once more and watches as the Bat logo still shines in the clouds of the storming night. He stares at it and rests his head on yours as he does so.

In the space of a few minutes, Bruce feels you entirely relax next to him, and his eyes keep trained on the outside. His arm around you doesn’t hold you in any way less tight, and his hand has begun to move on the side of your body all over again. His body, by continuously sensing and understanding who leans against him and whose peaceful exhales hit his skin, relaxes and, very slowly, makes Bruce fall asleep.

Bruce’s eyes close and, together, the two of you sleep your entire night holding one another.

(...)

“Thank you, everyone.” You say, dismissively as soon as the meeting comes to an end.

Everyone in question slowly stands from the long conference table, and you stay in place, having been the one to stand first at the head of the table. You watch as all of your workers gather their laptops and other materials to abandon the room patiently.

You offer your best imitation of a pleasant smile every time they look at you and continue to hold your own hands behind your back. Anxiety grows inside of you as you can’t wait for everyone to walk out and leave you with yourself. All while you continue to watch as people talk amongst themselves and offer their goodbyes one last time to you.

You look down at your things inside your bag as it stays open on the floor, just beside your feet, and your heart only beats quicker. Your assistant stays near the open door, thanking everyone as they walk by her to get out of the room, and the two of you stand in almost identical poses. People continue to leave at their own pace, and you sigh to yourself when looking upwards once more.

To say waking up today was hard is a true understatement. It was a cold morning. One where you couldn’t even begin to find the courage to reach for the AC to heat up the room, so, you clung to the bigger man beside you under the blankets instead. It made you lose at least 30 minutes of your morning routine, but, still, it was an awful temperature to wake up to.

It wasn’t until Bruce got up and turned on the heat that you felt obligated to move. And Bruce? Oh, he walked back to bed. He slept some more, which made it seem that he wanted to rub it in your face how he has the privilege of not worrying about work. Your urge to throw a shoe at him only got worse when he had the audacity to go to the kitchen to have breakfast with you. It’s nice of him, sure, but it wasn’t nice when he revealed his plans for the day to you. “Sleep more” He had said.

The little shit.

He watched from the bed as you got ready for work, from dressing up to doing your makeup. He also found it extremely amusing how you spent most of your time choosing the right shoes, and that actually made you send him a glare - to which he grinned at.

You push the memories aside, feeling the corners of your own lips genuinely pull upwards, and watch as the last person walks out of the meeting room. You close your eyes for a second in relief and grab your bag from the floor.

Your assistant moves just as quick. She closes the door right as the last person walks out and closes some of the blinds of the glass walls that face the table. When she turns back to you, she already finds you displaying all of the documents at the table.

It’s pretty interesting to see how serene you look or how gracefully you move when the task can only be stressful in her mind. Your assistant only knows the theme of the job, but her curiosity makes her not hold it in anymore. She begins to walk toward the long table, and her eyes meet the documents. She notices your stare at her, but neither of you says anything.

She knows that you’re looking for various examples of the company's growth and decline. From its extractions and intakes every month. Its growing in popularity when it comes to the attraction of new clientele. Its success with marketing - before and after every new marketing team put in place at the company. Lists of names of all that were in the higher seats of the company when the numbers grew and fell. And an even bigger list of all the names and companies that your company has ever been in touch or partnered with for the past years.

The documents fill the table, yet you continue to pull out more of them from your other bag, just behind your chair. You never say anything to your assistant, nor do you ever complain about having her there, standing and watching, awaiting your next move.

As you slowly put down the last piece of paper, you now stand beside your assistant. She quickly fetches you a pen, and you take some time to look away from all of the documents to grab it.

“M-may I ask something?” She asks you.

You look away from the pen over at her and nod.

“Why…” She leans into one of the pages facing her, the first one you put down, “This year in particular?”

You bring your eyes to the paper her finger is laying on and quickly bring them up to her once more.

“It was two years before I made my first headline.”

Still confused, your assistant lifts her finger off the paper and nods at you, acting as if she understood what you just said. She looks through the rest of the documents now, checking their dates and noticing that the last one was extracted just at the start of this week. The table is simply full of them because they are all of the papers that connect the timeline between those two years - then and now.

You carefully read the information in front of you. Your anxiety has calmed down, yet it still burns deep inside of you. It may be because of all that you may find, but it can also be due to the lack of things that you may also find. Your fingernail taps on the table as you continue to stay focused on the paper and take notes with your pen about all that you know of each number presented to you.

From each downfall to each upbringing of the company, all of it has a reason to happen, and you write down every single one that you may find in this table - from marketing to partnerships, everything.

Your assistant stays distanced from the papers as you work, but her mind stays in play. She has no idea, at first, of what could be that you’re looking for. Again, she knows that you’re looking at the company’s rate of success and failure throughout the years as that is exactly what you told her you would be doing today. But… Why that year?

She knows quite a lot about you and your career as she has been your assistant and secretary for some good years, but she knows nothing of your personal life - nor does she wish to. You have been in the news ever since you were born. Both of your parents are successful. A baby coming from that pair made a headline at the time, she knows that, but that is not the year of the headline you seem to be looking for. May you mean your first headline as the company’s owner?

That question makes her steal a look at the year on the page one more time, but, much to her disappointment, that is not the year in question. Millions of questions flash through her mind as she thinks of all other possibilities.

You move 5 papers aside, joining the first year that you have on paper in one small pile, and move on to the next one. You write down and underline all that you need to know, or that you think could be needed to know for the conclusion you’re trying to get out of all of this. Yet, still, these first years would make you conclude nothing but the introduction of two companies in the list of partnerships.

You move on to the next pile after joining together the previous one and notice how your body seems to react to the innocently typed year.

You underline the very specific month in all of the papers and simply write down quick letters “B.W.” just beside it. You lay both of your hands on the table and hover the paper as you read them.

That is exactly when your assistant finds the answer to her question. It’s not your first headline of all time, not your first headline associated with the company, your first headline as the boss of the company, or your first headline by yourself. It was simply your first headline with 'the prince of the city', and the first headline that made your name be dragged through the mud by so many mouths in the media outlets.

You circle the large numbers of extractions and intakes of money from that year forward. From before and after the headline. You watch as the total calculation stays printed at the end of the page, showing a clear decline in business.

You stay silent, continuing to move along through the years, moving carefully and joining in the piles, trying to find the new truth that could be the justification for so much in your life. Year after year and pile after pile, and you continue to have nothing.

By the time you’re done with all of the papers, the rude sound of a phone ringing loudly fills the entirety of the room. You hear your assistant swear at herself in a whisper while standing just behind you, and she moves to put down her things and pull out her phone from her pocket.

The contact name flashes on the screen, and your assistant quickly brings her eyes over to you. She watches as you stand straight once more and look over at her to try and see what is taking her so long with the phone call.

“It’s your mother, ma’am.” She tells you carefully.

“Talk to her outside.” You tell her, already facing the table midway through your sentence.

She watches as you stare at the paper and rebegin to tap the end of your pen on the wood. She takes a few steps back and walks out of the room, ready to listen to your mother’s orders or plans, just like any other end of the week.

You stay in place, reading carefully as the door closes behind her. You underline the last group of numbers and stand back straight, creating the new pile. You take a step back and look at all of the piles before you.

Confusion is what substitutes all of your emotions suddenly when all that you feel is the lack of a piece in your puzzle. The lack of the justification that you’ve been searching for.

You walk closer to the table once more and pick only a few piles. You line them up and notice how the first ones all have a thing in common, the decline of money and succession of the company, and the other group of piles the increase of said money and succession.

The first group of piles includes the year of the headline, the two following years, and one many years later - close to the time you finished college. The second group of piles is larger, much larger. It has the second year prior to the headline, the 5 years before your joining of the company, and then all of the years that have you as boss.

Your heels click as you quickly grab the two years prior to the headline, as well as the headline itself, and fetch the papers you need. As you stare at the lists of names, you tighten your hold on the pen.

You throw the pen onto the table, making it roll to the floor, and grab the paper which has the profit of the company in a graph. You lay each graph side by side.

You read your own annotations out loud and then walk over to papers of the following years once more.

Putting all of the papers side by side, you stare at all of them again. You intake sharp breaths and read everything one time, two times, five times. The words before you don’t change as the truth stays in printed words just before your eyes.

The company suffered from the headline of your teenage years, they said. They said all of that yet the precise answer is right in front of you now.

That being that one of the most prominent investors of your father’s company pulled out in the month following your headline. Again, one simple company pulled out, and, naturally, the money of your father’s company dropped.

The logic is: no money to spend, less money to make. But the reality is that, in the following years, there was a new presence: Five other companies. All of them are still affiliated with you and make up for the largest partner deals you and your father have done in all these years.

You pull out your phone and type in the name of the said investor. The news articles of years ago flash before your eyes, and anger builds inside of you. Your company lost its primary investor, it didn't suffer. And that same investor is a nobody in the year you live in now.

They lost the company to bankruptcy and have always been a large spokesperson in the years prior to their problematic separation with none other than Wayne Enterprises. All of it simply 4 years before their separation from your father’s company.

You put down your phone and gather all of the lists of partnered and affiliated companies your business has had, from the headline till now. You pick up your laptop, which was abandoned at the end of the table by the time the meeting was over, and begin to do your research: writing down every name and reading the title of every news article that appears before you.

All articles miss one thing and one thing only yet you still keep on going. Your breath has begun to feel stuck in your throat as you type and as you read, and nothing facilitates it for you.

As you reach the list of this year, you notice that it simply has minor changes when it comes to partnerships, but you do your research still.

The door of the room opens after two knocks, and your assistant walks back in, phone in hand. She closes the door behind her and her eyes meet you, staring at the screen with a focused expression on your face yet hiding your every other emotion.

“Your m-” She begins but something stops her.

You had lifted a hand to make her wait and that was enough to make her stop talking.

You read the final title of the headline and quote from the said website and write down the final two letters on the list “W.E.”. You close your laptop and pick up the paper from the table.

This year has been the best of years when it comes to the company's success, with or without you leading it. Money has never been so high in the graph, and no company from your list of partners has pulled out of business or gone against you even once in the space of 6 years. The only changes that appear on those lists are newer names - smaller companies wanting in, and being sold off to you and your company.

You have made more money than your father has ever done as boss of the company. And you have made 30 times the money that he lost when you made the headline with Bruce.

That same headline destroyed you. The media knew that and made it even worse. They circled your name with lies and repeated your public humiliation in thousands of articles in the following years. You were mentioned more times as the girl rejected by Bruce Wayne than anything else. Soon, that nickname changed to the woman that owns one of the fastest growing companies in all of Gotham.

You stare at the list one more time and close your eyes.

You’re the owner of one of the fastest growing companies in all of Gotham, and all of it as you stand beside other companies that you have continued forward with you. And all of them are affiliated or have been happily affiliated before with Wayne Enterprises.

You have no idea for how long truth has been printed, but you have been fed lies for years.

You look up at your assistant, who stands patiently awaiting her time to speak her news to you, and you open your mouth to speak.

“I need you to fact-check a few things this afternoon if possible.” You tell her.

“Of course. What is it about?”

“I need you to know if all of these companies,” You lift the paper for her to see which paper it is, “truly are or have been ever affiliated with the Wayne’s. As well as their relationships with them at present time.”

The mention of the name of the company comes as a surprise to the woman before you, but she quickly closes the space between the two of you and takes the paper, carefully, from your hands. She takes a quick look and offers you a shy grin.

“Of course. I will try to have it done before 6.” She tells you.

You grin back at her as a thank you and notice as she stays silent for a little longer. You bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself from your hidden anger and point towards her phone in her hand.

“What did my mother say?” You ask, voice as monotone as ever before.

“Oh, yes.” She remembers, “She called to ask if you’re still attending Friday’s dinner.” She tells you, fixing her posture as she speaks.

A sick grin grows on your face, but your assistant is blind to its true meaning.

“I am.” You tell her, “At my parent’s house, correct?”

“Yes.” She nods with her usual gentle grin, “And she also asked for you to do something.”

“Which is?” You ask her.

“She asked for you to not bring any unwanted company.” She tells you, “She emphasized the word quite a lot.”

Your blood boils at the indirect mention of Bruce, and the memories of the morning of just previous days enter your mind. The way they looked at him or mentioned him while talking to you. Yet as the truth makes a comeback to your head, all of their actions appear to be nothing but childish to you.

You smile at your assistant, making it appear as if your mother’s quoted words are nothing but a clear inside joke between the so loving mother and daughter, and she smiles back at you.

“You can reassure her that he won’t be there.” You tell her.

“Of course, ma’am.” She answers you right as she begins to type back your mother’s contact as she takes a step back, “If I may be excused?” She asks, holding up the phone.

“Of course.” You tell her with a nod and a smile.

Unsurprisingly, your mother picks up the call after its first rings, and your smile stretches. You hear your assistant saying the words “I spoke to her” as she walks out of the room and closes the door behind her, and your gaze falls back down to the table. You tap your nail on the wood a few times and shake your head as your smile falls.

Good thing today’s already Thursday.

There will be a lack of Bruce in the next parts. He will be there in mentions, but not really there (if that makes any sense). Hope that is okay!!

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#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagines #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fanfiction #battinson x y/n #battinson x you #battinson x reader #battinson #robert pattinson #batman x reader #the batman x fem!reader #the batman imagine #the batman x reader #batman x y/n

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thisismyyearhenderson · 2 years

Text

What a good little boy.

sub!battinson x reader

One Shot/ Drabble - 507 words

SMUTSMUTSMUTSMUTTYSMUTSMUTTTTT

a/n: you give bruce a blow job, and he is very sub about it hehe ;)

warnings: submissive innocent bruce, blow/handjob, edging, kinda dom reader if you squint

Your feet shuffled into your bedroom, your eyes darting to Bruce, whose sitting at his desk going over papers for Wayne Inc. “Babyyyy?” You say into Bruce’s ear. “Yeah, Hun?” he asks, eyes glued to the documents. You grasp at the top of his office chair and spin him around towards you, you get on your knees and look Bruce in his eyes. An air of innocence wafts through the room, and you note the needy glimmer of his expression.

“Now? Baby, you don’t have to-” he mumbles looking down at you, you move your hair out of your face with one hand and smirk at him gingerly, “Hush.” you whisper.

You run your thumb over Bruce’s cock, his precum leaking needily onto your hand. “Y/N?” He breathes as his hands run over your shoulders. “Yeah, baby?” you say, turning your head up to look at him. You place your other hand on his shaft, pumping him up and down and rubbing at his tip. Bruce's whimpers distract you, looking up at his face, you see him close his eyes and open his mouth, releasing a slight moan. He looks innocently down at you, such a strong man, so demure, so chaste. “Y/N, please- don’t stop-” He whimpers softly, bucking his thick cock into your hands, over and over again.

You place your mouth over his member and roll your tongue over his tip, lapping up precum with every move. You feel him throbbing as you deepen the hold of his cock in your mouth, spitting down his shaft and pumping him with both your hands. Bruce's cries echo through the room, his hips bucking a few times every second. “Y/N!” He yells while holding at your shoulders, “please don’t stop, please-” he whimpers. You take him out of your mouth and look at him virginally, “Hm?” you ask him “Like this?” Bruce opens his eyes and looks down at you, panting heavily. “Please, please, let me cum, I'm so close.”

“Okay, baby.” you whispered. You took him back in your mouth and pumped his cock up and down, rolling your tongue over his tip. Then you felt Bruce’s cock throb and he bucked his hips as his load painted your tongue and lips. Bruce’s yells of pleasure turned into whimpers as you licked his mess down, wiping your lips. You tucked his still standing cock back into his boxers and pulled his pants back on.

Climbing onto his lap, you pulled him into a kiss, softly grabbing at locks of his hair, smoothing your tongue over his. Your lips grazed together, his whimpers deepening into yours. You felt his dick rise again, and you felt yourself getting wet. You grinded against him, and then abruptly stopped. You lifted his chin and grumbled, “I’ll finish you later.” got off his lap and walked away. You smiled as you heard him angrily mumbling to himself, mocking you ‘ill finish you later. Beh beh bah.’

You chuckled to yourself as you got farther away from him, “What a good little boy.”

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scarletswillow · 2 years

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Until I Found You (MCU x Battinson)

Chapter 1

Hi so I’ve had this silly little idea in my head for sometime and i’ve just kind of been like, living it out in my head but i figured i would right it cuz ive got daddy issues and im in love with battinson. So yeah enjoy this stupid little thing i made.

Battinson x Reader, Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: child neglect, canon character death, violence,

Summary: Y/N Stark never really got along with her dad. Probably had something to do with never really wanted her in the first place. After the events of Infinity War in 2018, when Y/N discovered her father has been blipped she moved from NYC, not being able to stay when everywhere she looked she was reminded of her father. Moving to Gotham City, she never thought she would ever see Bruce Wayne again, let alone become his housekeeper.

Y/N really never got along with her dad. She never really knew why, but she suspected it had something to do with the fact that he never really wanted her in the first place, how could he? She was an accident, a result of a drunken one night stand.

Her mother had passed during childbirth and left Y/N to her father in her will. Seeing as it was her dying wish, her father felt like he couldn’t turn her away. Plus he could just have his assistant watch her, he’d raise her pay or whatever.

Growing up Y/N knew something was different with the way she was raised. Most kids in her class didn’t have strange men with bright cameras wherever she went since the day her dad’s assistant, Pepper, dropped her off on her first day of kindergarten.

Perhaps it was because Y/N’s father owned a billion dollar company, arguably one of the biggest and most impactful ones too. Or, when she was 8, it was because her dad was a superhero.

The world worshiped the ground he walked on, praising him for not only being Iron Man, but also for managing a company and raising a young daughter.

Pr made it so Tony looked like the greatest father in the world, a model citizen really, when in reality he hardly ever saw his daughter unless it was for a press conference in which her presence was required. She got used to it.

Y/N met Bruce Wayne when she was 10 years old. She knew who he was, seeing as his parents and their company were one of the biggest competitors to Stark Industries. Having been dragged to some fancy event where she had to wear a horrible itchy dress, she had wandered away from her father looking for something to do.

Event’s like this were her least favorite, they were so long and boring, and usually ended with her dad stumbling back home drunk, saying some not very nice things to her on their way home.

The difference between when he was drunk and sober was how he treated Y/N. When he was sober, he wasn’t very nice to her. When he was drunk, he really wasn’t nice to her.

Regardless of whatever would happen after the Gala, Y/N had found herself exploring the large venue in an attempt to distract herself. She ran into Bruce in the hallway on the fourth floor. He was staring at a painting of a man and a woman. Who they were, she didn't know.

They hadn’t talked much. Y/N, being young and curious with no sense of stranger danger, had reached her hand out to the teenager and announced, “I’m Y/N Stark.”

He had blinked in surprise before responding with his name, and Y/N knew that she probably wasn’t supposed to be around him. His parents hated her dad, so she guessed the mutual dislike was supposed to pass down through generations.

She didn’t care though, she was bored and wanted a friend. Bruce and Y/N talked for a good 30 minutes, Bruce listening to her ramblings and storytellings of grand adventures she went on whenever Pepper wasn’t watching her. The boy didn’t say much, just nodded his head and made small sounds to indicate he was listening.

She’s pretty sure he probably doesn’t even remember that day, but she does. Bruce Wayne was one of the first people to show her kindness, and had even complimented her dress. Her horrible, hideous, itchy dress that she hated wearing and felt so ugly in.

“You look just like a princess.”

His words would stick with her for the rest of her life, lifting her spirits whenever she felt down on herself. Which was quite often, seeing as her father hardly interacted with her, probably not even remembering her name, and Pepper being busy all the time. She started watching after herself when she was 9, Pepper claiming that she was a big girl and didn’t need supervision anymore.

Y/N didn’t really have any friends either, her only one being her dad’s new assistant who showed up when Pepper took on all the big responsibilities.

Natalie, technically Natasha she later discovered, was the only person ever really there for her. She drove her to and from school, she taught her how to fight, and she was there for all the important firsts. First award, first choir concert, first dance, first prom, and eventually graduation.

Nat had been there for her for about 8 years, sticking by her side since she was 10. She was more of a mother to Y/N than Pepper or her father ever were. Y/N met other people who worked with her father, of course, often running into multiple avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. agents (neither of which ever really talked to her.)

The only person who she ever considered a friend other than Nat was a scrawny teenager named Peter Parker. Peter Parker, or Spiderman she later found out, was her dad’s personal intern. His mentee, and basically his son from the way they interacted. Tony treated Peter more like his child than he had ever treated Y/N. She should’ve been jealous, but she couldn’t find it in her to be.

Y/N got to know Peter pretty well over the course of two years, the two becoming friends almost as soon as she introduced herself when she found him eating pizza on the couch in the living room one day. She eventually began to see him as sort of a brother and added him to her list of the little family she had made in her mind.

It all came crashing down in April of 2018. What started as a normal day ended with large alien spaceships hovering over New York and half the population turning to dust. She had no idea where Tony or Peter were and couldn’t get into contact with Natasha or any of the other avengers.

It was only a few weeks later when her brother had stumbled out of a ship, looking absolutely horrible, confirming her worst fear.

Her father was dead.

Sure, they never really talked. Or even got along. But Y/N still loved him fiercely, and had always hoped deep down that someday he would turn around and start noticing her, caring for her, actually being a father to her.

She didn’t know what to do, all she knew is she couldn’t stay in New York anymore. Everything reminded her of her father, and she couldn’t bear to see Peter or Natasha in such overwhelming states of depression.

She moved to Gotham City a month later.

Thanks for reading this absolute mess of a fic, pls give me comments and feedback i really thrive off of them. if you want to be added to the tag list just drop an ask in my inbox lol. ill update as often as i can, updating schedule will be more consistent when school gets out and i dont have to deal with the shitshow that is junior year anymore lmao.

#battinson x reader #battinson x you #battinson x y/n #bruce wayne x reader #the batman 2022 #tony stark x daughter!reader #female reader #battinson #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #the batman x reader #marvel #mcu x reader #peter parker #natasha romonova #natahsa romanoff #alfred da buttler #if you know me irl and you see this no you didn’t #please give me validation

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kimberly-spirits13 · 1 year

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Bruce Wanye’s S/O Having a ✨Southern Accent✨

• What you have to know about the *Southern Accent* is that there’s different versions of it

• There’s the tired one where all the syllables run together, the angry one (similar to the tired one) where it’s just the aggressive loss of syllables mixed with very personal threats, there’s the lack of accent when you’re in certain situations depending on the accents you grew up around, the sweet accent when talking to your elders, that kind of thing

• Depending on how strong the accent is, he’s not going to notice at first

• Like depending on my situation I have no accent or start sounding like a good ole’ southern girl

• When you’re in a meeting he probably doesn’t notice cause you’re not using that good ole southern accent

• Get tired though and you’re throwing syllables together he’s never heard

• You’re in the Batcave looking at footage of Joker

• “I on’t eve-n know what kinda mess this is”

• “Man-ee probly knocked his head fallin inta *that* acid

• He’s doing double takes

• “What did you say?”

• “I said this man’s dumber than a Florida man on 75”

• “What?”

• “HE’S A DUMBASS BRUCE- D U M B A S S“

• That’s when he starts noticing the accent more

• He thinks it’s hilarious when you come back from a long day at work and start off not worrying about annunciations

• “I think imma die fore’ the end-a this”

• He’s tried to copy the accent before

• Bless his heart

• Poor boy couldn’t do it if the world was at stake

• He just sounds like a northern boy struggling

• When you and Clark get going, no one understands you two

• Poor Diana tries to keep up but she just can’t

• Bruce just won’t

• He and the rest of the people there just sit back and watch

• Flash thinks that you have learned to just talk in the speed force

• Nope

• The times where he thinks it’s the funniest is in traffic

• That’s where every southerner starts mouthing off

• “GOOD LORD WHAT IS THIS PERSON DOIN- LORD I HADN’T SEEN A DUMBASS THIS BAD SINCE EVE ATE THAT FRUIT”

• “Sweet merciful Lord- WHAT IS HE DOIN? MOVE”

• “In all my days, I ain ever seen this”

• “I ain ever in my life”

• “I ain ever”

• It just gets shorter and shorter

• He just appreciates it

• He’s always grown up with Alfred being very proper so this is a good change

• Please call him Darlin

• He’ll die

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #justice league x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x y/n #batman x (hero) reader #batman x you #batman x y/n #battinson x y/n #battinson x female reader #battinson x reader #battinson x you

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ktficworld · 8 months

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Lies and Lavish

"You finally pull your head out of your studies and go to your long time friend's wedding to relax. And it's going to be alright, even if the infamous five brothers tend to linger around you a little too long, even when you share a past with one of them, even if their darkness is slowly approaching you. It's going to be okay, right?"

Coming soon to your nearest dashboard.

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hollandorks · 8 months

Text

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter three

a/n: trying to keep to frequent posts, especially because of that cliffhanger! Also keep in mind that I am 10000% making up 1) police procedure and 2) anything to do with journalism. I know nothing about these things other than what I've seen in movies. But who cares, it's fiction!

Series Masterlist

word count: 3.2k

She gasped.

And every head–four of them, all men–turned to look at her.

Instincts kicked in and y/n immediately shoved her phone into her pocket so as not to lose it and turned to flee.

Only to smack into something a lot like a brick wall.

She stumbled back, fear kicking her heart into high gear. She hadn’t even run yet and her breaths were quick, panicked. She was almost literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Before her was a towering figure cloaked in shadows and some sort of armor. He was menacing, dark, huge. Her throat went dry as he took a single, heavy step forward. Half of his face was covered by a mask that made her think of a black skull with two sharp points at the top. She didn’t notice the split second of shock on his face when he first laid eyes on her.

The Batman.

It shamed her to admit that she whimpered. Her body was in the thick of fight or flight, but there were men with guns behind her and a demon of a man before her. She had nowhere to flee. Despite what the waitress had told her not ten minutes earlier, she was afraid.

But Batman stepped to the side, his focus now on the men behind her, and said in a voice made of gravel and smoke, “Run.”

Y/n ran.

She ran until her lungs threatened to burst, until her knees wanted to give out, until all of her muscles were screaming, until her chocolate chip pancakes threatened to come back up. She took several turns and doubled back to make sure she hadn’t been followed.

Then she stumbled inside the blessedly safe lobby of Wayne Tower.

The security guard looked up in alarm.

“Call the police,” she gasped. “Tell them–” She bent over, hands on her knees, and tried to get her racing heart under control. “–Tell them I witnessed a murder.” She glanced back at the doors. “Lock everything up. I’ll be upstairs.”

The guard called after her–a young guy she didn’t recognize, someone who must be new from the past three years–but she ignored him. She heard the dial tone of the lobby phone as the elevator doors slid shut.

It wasn’t until she was out of the elevator and stumbling towards a concerned looking Alfred that she relaxed marginally. Despite the late hour, he was still impeccably dressed, as if he hadn’t ever gone to bed.

“Y/n?” he asked with a frown. The foyer was warm. Safe. Something in her loosened a little. “Security called up–”

“Um, I just witnessed a murder,” she said. She was in shock, or something close, because the words simply tumbled out of her. The disbelief on Alfred’s face mirrored what she was feeling now that the fear was leaving. “I had to run–that Batman guy was there and since he was distracting them I just–I needed to be safe and this was closest–”

Alfred wrapped her in a tight hug. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. Her body trembled.

And then she remembered, all over again, that her grandmother was dead and that she wouldn’t be getting the comfort she wanted the most. Alfred wasn’t even the next best thing, though it was good enough.

A small sound escaped.

“Alright, dear, I’m going to get the family lawyers on the phone. The police will meet us here to get your statement.” He squeezed her once more.

“Lawyers?” she asked, the word making her nervous all over again. “I can’t afford–”

“You’re family. And it’s just in case, love. They’ll offer legal advice and make sure nothing untoward happens with the officers interviewing you.”

She pulled away and wiped her damp eyes. “Okay. That’s–Where’s Bruce?”

Alfred hesitated. It was only for a moment, but long enough that she noticed. “Let’s not bother him unless absolutely necessary.”

Something sharp pierced her chest. Meaning, Bruce probably didn’t even care that she’d almost died. Tears welled in her eyes all over again, but didn’t fall.

Alfred patted her shoulder. “Stay here and we’ll meet the police together when they arrive. I’ll be right back.”

It only took ten minutes. Alfred had the lawyers on speakerphone and Bruce still hadn’t bothered to show himself.

The four of them–her, Alfred, a uniformed officer, and a detective–sat in the formal living room that no one ever used. It was dust-free, though, which was a testament to her grandmother’s work ethic.

Her throat tightened again at the thought.

“Y/n, this is Officer Martinez and Lieutenant Gordon,” Alfred said. “We’ve worked with them before and I believe them to be trustworthy. Gordon helped with the bombing last year.”

She started, recognizing the name. The fire that had just gotten her in trouble rekindled again, ever so slightly. She stared at the man seated in front of her. “You’re Batman’s best friend, huh?”

Gordon blinked. Then a corner of his mouth turned up. “Maybe not best friend, but we do work together. Why don’t you walk us through what happened?” Not the most subtle subject change, but she had more important things to get through before digging into the vigilante.

So she did. She kept it short, sweet, and to the point as if she were reporting on it instead of reliving it. It helped create enough distance that she didn’t freak out again.

“And you’re a friend of Mr. Wayne’s?” Gordon asked when she was finished. “Girlfriend?”

Her face heated. Alfred’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t see what–”

She waved him off. She was nothing to Bruce Wayne, so she didn’t care about answering, or even why he was asking. “We grew up together. My grandmother–Dory–was the head housekeeper for the Waynes until she passed a few days ago. I came for her funeral. And for my mother’s.”

Gordon simply nodded, as if he already knew the information. “Where is Mr. Wayne?”

Alfred’s eyes narrowed even further. “In bed. He wasn’t feeling well, so I didn’t see a need to bother him.”

“And the video? Did you delete it?” Gordon brushed past Bruce’s absence as if it didn’t mean anything. And to him, it didn’t. But for y/n, it meant everything. It meant that Bruce didn’t care. That she wasn’t important enough for him to wake up, to get out of bed. She hoped it didn’t show on her face, the minor devastation as the feeling sank in.

“No, I have it here. I can send it directly to you, or to multiple–”

“We’ll need the entire phone, actually, to ensure that nothing was tampered with.”

A tiny portion of her panic was back. Her entire phone? For how long? She looked to Alfred pleadingly.

But the lawyer–she’d already forgotten his name–was already on top of it. “We’ll need it in writing that the phone will be returned in a timely manner and in the same condition. And that there will be no perusal of personal files. I have a draft already sent to Mr. Pennyworth to print for signatures.”

Gordon sighed but nodded without argument. Was this what privilege felt like? Her life in close proximity to the Wayne fortune had afforded a few luxuries–like help with college tuition, Bruce giving her one of his “old cars”, things like that–but she had never needed to have lawyers on retainer. As close as she’d been with Bruce, sometimes his wealth still caught her by surprise.

Alfred disappeared down the hallway to print the documents, chatting with the lawyer the whole way.

Y/n studied the two officers in the ensuing silence. Officer Martinez hadn’t said a word. He was busy looking around the room in slack-jawed awe and barely seemed to listen to what they were saying. She glanced around, trying to see from his eyes. The room was grand, but it was also easy to tell the house had lost some of its former grandeur.

She glanced back at the officer. He was young, probably her age or maybe younger, with a thin mustache that didn’t make him look as old as he thought. He caught her looking at him and grinned sheepishly.

Gordon, on the other hand, stared right at her. She liked him, she realized. Her gut was rarely wrong on these things, but she knew better than to rely too much on that. It helped that he seemed steady, no nonsense. And apparently forward-thinking, because he worked with a vigilante on a regular basis.

There was that fire again. She silently cursed it even as she asked, “Would you be open to doing an interview about the Batman? I’m a reporter in Bludhaven and–”

Gordon’s phone rang out, shrill in the quiet room, interrupting her. “We’re best friends because he trusts me,” he said wryly, then stood to take the call as Alfred came back with the legal papers in hand.

“Damn. Only one?” Gordon said quietly, but they were all listening. “Alright. I’m with the witness now.” A pause. “Yeah. Yeah. Talk later.” He hung up and turned back to them.

“That was him, wasn’t it?” y/n asked. She wasn’t sure how she knew–investigative instincts, maybe. He had tried to hide the phone call, his body language shifting, even his voice. And he was familiar with whoever was on the other end of the call.

Gordon gave her a look. “Yes,” he said without needing to clarify who she meant. “I have officers on the scene now, but one of the suspects escaped. Do you think you could identify them?”

She thought back to the moment they had all turned to her. There had been a streetlight at the end of the alley, the light filtering through from behind her. She might be able to identify them, especially with the help of the video. She hadn’t put her phone away until after they had turned, frozen in fright as she was.

“I could try,” she said truthfully.

“Alright, let me sign these papers and get over to the crime scene. We’ll be in touch and get your phone back to you as soon as possible. I would suggest protective custody, but I think you’re probably in the safest place in the city.” He scrawled a signature over the papers. Y/n wondered if the bombing the year before had involved any legal paperwork. An NDA maybe, since officers had been in the “inner sanctum” as she’d jokingly called it during their teenage years.

“We’ll add more security,” Alfred said as he showed the officers out a minute later. “Please keep us updated on any developments.”

When they were gone, y/n slumped against the wall. “Fuck,” she said as she rubbed her tired eyes. The antique clock in the corner told her it was after two in the morning.

“My sentiments exactly,” Alfred said. He had shed the professional facade as soon as the elevator doors closed. “I’ve already posted extra security downstairs and in the parking garage. Our camera and alarm systems will be updated tomorrow. The private elevators are on lockdown and employee identities will be triple checked for the offices below.”

She nodded, though she wasn’t sure it made her feel better. One man had escaped both a vigilante and the cops, and they had all seen her face. It was only a matter of time before they figured out who she was–Wayne Tower going on lockdown was odd enough and it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out the cause. Her relation to Bruce Wayne had never been a secret. In fact, it had been an oft-discussed topic of every gossip magazine in the city and a few outside of it.

She hoped the man who had escaped was on the run instead of the vengeful type.

But her instincts told her that wasn’t the case.

She realized she hadn’t responded to Alfred. “I’m…going to bed. Thank you, Alfred.”

He squeezed her arm gently and bid her goodnight.

Y/n didn’t go to bed. Instead, she spent the next three hours scouring the internet for news on the Batman and printing out every article that seemed relevant. To what, she didn’t know yet. Those instincts that got her in trouble and created some of her best work in equal measure were whispering in her ear.

She finally succumbed to exhaustion right as the city outside started to lighten.

When she woke sometime later–long enough for her back to go stiff–she was on top of all of the papers she had printed.

“Ugh,” she said as she peeled an article from her cheek. She was still in the same clothes she’d gone out in the night before. She went to check her phone before remembering that the police had it. She opened her laptop and used that to check the time (nearly noon) and email her editor for an extended leave of absence. She briefly explained the situation without giving too many details and then asked for a temporary assignment to the Gotham Tribune.

There was a story here, and she was in the middle of it. It was an investigative reporter’s dream: to have unlimited access to a key witness who was willing to cooperate.

Might as well make the most out of an extremely shitty situation.

She showered, changed, and shuffled into the study when she heard the rustle of Alfred’s newspaper over light classical music.

“Good mor–uh, afternoon?” she said as she took a seat across from him at the giant monogrammed table.

“I’d ask if you slept well, but I think the answer is obvious after the night you had.” Alfred glanced up from the paper and smiled over the top of his glasses. “I’ve kept out some fresh fruit and coffee for you.”

She took some of both and settled in. She half-expected to hear her grandmother puttering into the room with a mop or a tray of sandwiches for lunch. Tears pricked her eyes when she realized that reality was gone forever.

“Thank you, by the way,” she said around a mouthful of grapes. “For…everything last night. And this week.”

“Of course, dear,” Alfred said, his light accent a comfort. He was the only constant in her life anymore, and she appreciated it more than she could say.

The silence stretched as she thought about how awful her luck had been in the past week. She stood and walked to one of the arched windows. The city was bustling down below, like it always was. She leaned her head against the cold glass and watched her breath create fog. Autumn had its claws in the city fully now, and it was only a matter of time before winter sank in its icy teeth next.

“Detective Gordon called. He thinks your phone will be released by tomorrow morning. They just need to document everything to make sure there’s no evidence tampering.” Alfred said as she watched the city. She noticed a small bubble of space around the tower where private security were deflecting pedestrians and double-checking employee identities.

“That’s good,” she said absently. “I asked for an extended leave from work. I figure I probably…shouldn’t do much else until that guy is caught.”

“Probably a good idea,” Alfred agreed. Another rustle as he turned the page of the paper. “Gordon’s a very good cop. I’m sure he’ll get one in custody to tell him where the last one is, and this will all be over before you know it.”

She turned away from the window and smiled wryly. “That eager to be rid of me already?”

Alfred rolled his eyes but didn’t answer.

Her heart twinged painfully. She was sure it was Bruce who wanted her gone, not Alfred.

Speak of the devil, she thought as the man in her thoughts materialized at the top of the stairs. He was tugging a shirt over his head and damn it her eyes caught on the flash of bare skin of his abdomen. Her entire body flushed from the split second view. Since when did Bruce have abs? He’d always been more scrawny than anything, but all that had changed sometime in the past few years.

Bruce looked as tired as she felt. His eyes were almost bruised, the circles were so dark. His hair was damp and his shoulders curved inwards as if bowed by exhaustion.

Alfred looked up from his paper with raised brows. He glanced between them, folded the paper, and got up to leave.

“Fresh fruit and coffee there,” he said softly to Bruce on the way out.

That bastard, she thought at Alfred’s back. He was purposefully leaving them alone.

Bruce finally looked up and blinked slowly at her. Apparently, he hadn’t noticed that Alfred wasn’t alone.

She didn’t mean to speak. In fact, she’d decided to completely ignore him. But the words sprang forth anyway. “I hope you’re feeling better.” Her voice was cold. It was obvious she didn’t mean it.

Bruce froze. “Uh.”

“Alfred didn’t think you’d care about me almost getting murdered so we let you sleep.” She bit her tongue as soon as the words were out and winced. He could have been really sick, for all she knew, but here she was assuming he was just being an asshole.

Bruce shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know until this morning.” The words were so unexpected her back bumped the cold glass of the window. Bruce Wayne, apologizing to her? It wasn’t an apology for three years ago, that much she knew, but it was still…something.

“Sorry, I–I’m just…tired. Overwhelmed. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

Bruce continued to stare at her. Used to, she would know what he was thinking from only a glance. But that was before. Now she had no idea what was happening behind his crystalline eyes. She noticed again how different he was. The baggy clothes couldn’t hide his new bulk. And he looked so tired, more so than he ever had before, even in college. Even after the deaths of his parents. What could possibly be keeping Bruce Wayne awake every night? Or maybe it was simply proof he had been sick after all.

“Are you alright?” he asked, brushing off her apology. “Were you hurt?” His voice sounded deeper too. It was like he’d gone through a second puberty or something. The muscles, the voice, even the way he held himself. He had changed so much, and she had missed it.

It sickened her how much she clung to his attention, to his concern, even though it was only him being a decent human. God, she missed him.

“No, I wasn’t hurt. That bat guy stepped in and gave me a chance to run.”

Bruce’s eyes flickered up, away, and back in quick succession. A nervous tick if she ever saw one. But why? Did he feel bad about what had happened to her? Or was he waiting for his chance to escape her presence?

“Heard he helped find the Riddler guy last year. The one who tried to kill you.” She knew she should shut her mouth, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t just switch off part of who she was. “Ever met him in person?” Her voice slipped slightly lower into what her grandmother used to call her “professional voice.”

She saw it happen–the hardening, the distancing. Bruce went from at least semi-open with her to entirely closed and walled off. That much she could recognize.

“No,” he said. He went to walk away, the lines of his body rigid, but paused. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said over his shoulder.

She wondered if it was true.

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#battinson x reader #the batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #battinson x y/n #the batman 2022 #the batman #battinson #bruce wayne #haven #haven fic

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1-800-imagines · 2 years

Text

then | changes part 8

masterlist of series

authors note: kind of a transition chapter, not the best, i apologize. ALSO this fic is obvi not cannon and selina kyle is not in it so i am adapting around that, some events are out of order

PRINCESS OF GOTHAM DEAD

the text scrolled across the screen and you bit your lip.

you bounced your leg as you watched the press release. usually it would be thomas you would be thomas you would be bouncing, but he was making his first public appearance today.

jim gordon was currently standing outside the gotham precinct talking to the reporters where they were all hungry for bruce’s appearance.

everyone had decided it be necessary to have thomas be there as no one would believe you dead if thomas were no where to be found either.

gordon stepped up to the mic. everyone had been in arms about your 'death' as you were a far different target than the mayor, the commissioner, and the da.

"it is with great sorrow to announce that y/n y/l/n was tragically murdered last night by the riddler. we know this without a doubt and we are using all of our resources to find him. a tape has been leaked of y/n's death and we are advising the public not to listen out of respect of her family. now a word from mr. wayne, her fiancé." jim finished.

bruce walked out of the precinct doors carrying thomas. bruce stepped up to the mic and cleared his throat, "this is the second person the riddler has hurt because of me. first alfred, now y/n." thomas started to whine, “this is our child, thomas bruce wayne jr or tommy as y/n called him. he’s without a mother now.” you could see the pain in bruce’s face as he spoke these words as they were his biggest fears and he needed to make it seem realistic.

you swallowed hard you were worried about the two of them being in such a public place when the riddler was clearly obsessed with him.

“she was a great woman and an even better mother. i should have made better use of our time together. that’s all, thank you.” bruce said and walked back inside as the reporters went wild with questions.

your heart broke, seeing the pain in bruce’s eyes knowing he meant every word of it. tears streamed down your face as you clicked off the tv.

“would you like some tea, ms. y/n?” you heard the voice around the corner, wiping the tears away from your cheeks.

you stood up, “dotty?” you asked softly. you knew she was around, but you hadn’t seen her during your arrival last night.

“i didn’t mean to interrupt. i made you tea. i thought you might like some.” she said, walking in and presenting you tea, just how you liked it.

“you remembered.” this made the tears come falling again and your knees buckled. dotty had always made you tea when you weee upset when you were a teenager, it had been a staple comfort item and a bonding moment between the two of you.

dotty quickly put the tray down and rushed to your side, “sweet girl, everything will be alright. you’re home safe again. we will take care of you.”

you leaned into her shoulder, just as you had when you were a young teenager, “how can anything be the same?” you whispered.

“well it won’t be and it shouldn’t be. there’s a baby now. and if that doesn’t make you want to work things out with him, i don’t know what will.” she said, stroking your hair.

you sniffled, “i’m just so worried about him.”

“well aren’t we all, but now he has someone to come home to besides just me and silly alfred.”

you hugged her a final time, “thank you dot.”

your phone beeped and you looked at it. it was a text from bruce with a link to a news article titled SECRET LOVE CHILD OF LATE Y/N Y/LN AND BRUCE WAYNE? FIND OUT MORE TONIGHT

you swore, you knew that meant reporters would be swarming the manor trying to get more pictures of thomas, especially after that pressconference. there was nowhere safe for them to go in gotham. you needed to find the riddler and be done with this, fast.

thankfully, bruce and tommy would have a police escort back to the house later, but you had gone down to start analyzing the latest letter. as you were about to shut down the computers a pattern in the code caught your eye of your initials. you erased all of those symbols which pertained and it spelled out perfect, ‘44’.

you felt sick, you never wanted to step foot in the iceberg lounge or 44 below again. your last name was a legend in that club because of your father as he was known to take any hit job no matter the target, no questions asked. a year after he had killed your mother, you went looking for answers and had a horrible encounter with falcone and the penguin. if it hadn’t been for young bruce, you wouldn’t have made it out alive.

but you knew you were the only one who was going to get in, even if you were supposed to be dead.

#battinson x reader #battinson #battinson imagine #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #robert pattinson #robert pattinson!batman x reader #the batman #the batman x reader #the batman x y/n #the batman x fem!reader #batman #battinson x y/n

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spideyanakin · 2 years

Text

Expensive Things

Synopsis - When you start secretly dating Bruce Wayne, Gordon starts worrying about where you got all these new expensive things

Warnings - mentions of blood, injury, and gordon thinking the reader has a sugar daddy lmao

Masterlist 🧚🏻‍♀️

Bruce Wayne Masterlist 🌻

Bruce Wayne.

How could you describe him?

Self-centered? Loner? Smart? A bit Over the top? Shy? Handsome?

The last one made your heart leap in your chest when you thought about it. But you didn't think he liked you this way. No, to him you were most likely just his good only friend from high school, the only friend who he had somehow managed to keep for so long.

You weren't part of the high society of Gotham and had a tad of a passion for investigations. Sometimes you even thought your talent for quick conclusions spooked Bruce, causing him to push you away lately.

But then you met The Batman, and he left you and your little heart to be torn in pieces.

Your passion to play detective had landed you a good job as James Gordon's assistant, making you his right-hand woman when handling Batman-related things.

And of course, what you felt like Bruce didn't see in you, you felt like Batman did. When Bruce would often put you aside when things got rough, when you tried to help with your detective skills. Well, Batman seeked your help. He trusted you. He didn’t push you away from a mission, or didn’t push you away when things got rough.

And now you felt yourself list all the ways you could describe him.

Smart? Loner? A bit over the top? Trusting? Handsome?

Now you had to take a minute to rethink. Handsome? You had never seen the top of his face.

But your mind travelled to the times when he made eye contact with you. When his piercing grey eyes made your heart do flips and turn your stomach upside down. Your mind travelling to how his voice brought shivers down your shoulders. How his jaw line contrasted with the black of his cowl.

Fuck.

You had a crush on both Batman and Bruce Wayne. Batman had torn your heart in two, leaving you to doubt your feelings and being a mess in front of both.

The worst part was, that Batman flirted with you all the time. Even to the extent that Gordon would ask him to stop and to ask you out already, or simply stop for his own sake.

But everything became less confusing when Batman came tumbling down your window, all bloody and bruised up.

You panicked, the sudden noise making you jump awake and aware. You had been dosing off while writing a report and his sudden arrival made you wide awake. You grabbed the knife you always kept under your desk and quickly turned around, your face dropping at the sight.

Batman had fallen onto your white carpet in a pool of his own blood.

"Holy shit" You dropped your knife and came near him, crouching to get a better sight.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly turning him around to see the half of his face that wasn't covered by the mask.

"Y/n-" He mumbled.

"Bats what happened?" You frowned, trying to calm your own panic down before scanning his body to see his hand clutching his side. The pannels of his suit had been destroyed to reveal black fabric soaked in blood. The side of his face was badly bruised and blood was smeared on his chin.

"Bad guys" He groaned trying to keep his eyes open.

"I'll be right back." You frowned again before standing up and making a mental list of what you had to grab; towels, warm water, your first aid kit, bandages...

You thought that maybe you should call Gordon, or a Doctor? No. You couldn't bring him to the hospital...

You breathed. You could do this.

You came back to him, your heart beating like lighting as you saw him sprawled in a starfish position, still in the same spot beneath your window. He was muttering something under his breath that you tried to understand but couldn't seem to make out, maybe trying to keep himself from passing out.

"Are you ok to move, bats?" You asked carefully and he tried to nod. "I at least need you to sit up against my bed, ok?"

He listened, and with your help he was sat up, his head resting against the bed as you held his shoulders. You analyzed him carefully until you spotted the bloody area.

"I'll probably have to take your shirt off, bats. Is that ok?" You touched the side of his armor and looked at him. His bright eyes looked back at you and he nodded before closing them back again.

"Never thought you'd be the one to undress me first."

"Shut up and let me work." You bit back a smile, the flirty comment reassuring you that he would be fine. You frowned again when he winced at your touch.

Each piece of armor was carefully dropped against your already stained carpet until only the thin black shirt was revealed to you. It was already torn into pieces from the fight, making the removal easier.

"I hope you own more black shirts."

"You'd be surprised." He attempted a smile but gave out a big 'oof' instead as you started patching him up, the gash on his side too distracting to make you blush at the sight of his toned body or even think about who was under the suit just by how his abs looked.

You had one mission; save him so he didn't die on your bedroom floor.

"I'm sorry." He broke the silence.

"For?" You didn't look up from the wound as you replied.

"Coming here, like this..."

"Bats, you know it's alright-"

"You're the only one I trust, Y/n/n" He cut you off, the nickname rolling off his lips as if he had been saying it all his life, making you lift your gaze up to meet his. You didn't know what was different about this, maybe the way he used your nickname for the first time, or the haze in his voice. But you felt your blood rush to your cheeks more than it already had.

Maybe it was a tiny bit more than a crush...

"What about Gordon?" You attempted.

"He doesn't know me like you do." Your hands stopped moving and your eyes kept focus on his face, trying to figure out what he meant.

That was a lie. Gordon had started to work with Batman even before you had arrived in the G.C.P.D.

You didn't seem to know what to reply, and the eye contact was getting longer by the second.

Batman grunted as he leaned on one arm to scoot closer to you, his other hand attempting to reach yours. He tried to focus all his strength on sitting up without resting against the bed - making you grab the side of his arm so he wouldn't fall over.

"I'm sorry about being so distant lately." He whispered, and if you weren't so close you might have not been able to hear him.

His words might have confused you, but something about the change in his voice felt so familiar, so comfortable - as if you had known him your entire life...

Before you could think of something to say or wonder what he meant, his lips were on yours.

Your eyes went wide open until you registered what was going on. Your eyelashes brushed his face as you closed your eyes, gripping his arm to deepen the kiss.

Your other hand wrapped around his neck as his held your waist. You subconsciously reached to place a hand in his hair but were quickly stopped by the edge of his cowl, making you come back to earth.

You didn't know who you were kissing...

But damm it felt nice.

As if he had read your mind, he pulled away - eyes scanning your face for any reaction, but all he could see was your hesitation to kiss him again.

With a small sigh, he kissed your cheek and slowly brought his hands to his cowl.

"Wait-" you took his wrist in yours. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean-" He shut you up with a kiss.

"Yes." He mumbled, squeezing one of your wrists.

He took one of your hands in his making you reach for the edge of his mask. The fabric felt smooth and almost cold under your skin, contrasting with the warmth of his hand on top of yours.

He closed his eyes and took a breath, you blinked slowly - the moment almost feeling like slow motion as he made your hand hook with the back edge of the cowl and slowly slipping it off.

It was a staring contest as it slowly moved away from his face.

Your breath caught in your throat.

The same grey eyes that you had been staring at your entire life were staring back at you.

"Bruce." You whispered and he leaned against you, faces inches apart. Your breath was caught in your throat, and all you could do was keep your gaze on his.

Somehow it made sense. The way Bruce had been more distant. The little times you saw him he seemed more sleep deprived than usual and less talkative. More reserved.

Batman, on the other hand, he was everything Bruce had been during your childhood. Cheeky jokes and sarcastic comments with more flirting and a good extra dose of charm.

"I wanted to tell you" he stopped to sigh "for so long."

Your brain moved faster than you could comprehend and your lips were on his again. Shushing him with a kiss, trying to tell him it was ok, that you loved him, but also trying to convince yourself that he felt for you just as much.

You pulled away, and smacked his chest with the back of your hand.

"Ow!" He whined, "what was that for?"

"Not telling me sooner" before he could reply you kissed him again, but the kiss was broken by your growing smiles.

"So I take it you like me as well?" He raised an eyebrow and your eyes went wide.

"Like you as well? Bruce, I’ve been head over heels for you since high school"

And the rest was history.

It would be a lie to say that Gordon didn’t notice a change. You started coming to work with a grin and a small step to the way you walked. You seemed happier, more at peace.

It didn’t take him long to figure out.

And it only took a month for you to actually say it.

You were planning a mission with Batman, and like always: his flirting was annoying Gordon, but today in particular he didn’t seem in the mood to take it anymore.

Gordon's head was bowed over the map while you looked at it, trying to figure out where to put the little figurines of you and Batman to show where you would position yourselves to spy on your next mission. You smiled a little to yourself as you remembered going into the toy store and finding a little Batman stocked in the corner of a shelf.

Batman was collecting information via his computer, trying to focus on the little information you gad until a light smirk covered his lips when you slightly bent over the table to place the toy in your hand on the map.

"You look good in those jeans." He smirked.

You felt heat come to your cheeks and eyed him with a furious look. His flirts were only growing bolder since the two of you were together, and you 1. didn't want Gordon thinking something was going on between you two and 2. getting embarrassed in front of your boss.

Gordon who had way pass enough his tolerable dose of flirts for the night lightly slammed his hand on the table and glared daggers at Batman.

"Can you please cut the flirting, please" Your boyfriend raised his hands up in defeat.

"Yeah." You chimed in. "I should warn you, my boyfriend wouldn't like it" You gave him a cheeky smile and eye contact only he could decipher.

"I'm sure I could take your boyfriend down easily"

"You think so?" You teased.

Boyfriend

Gordon wasn't wrong, you had someone.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend." Gordon thought at loud, his curiosity breaking the coded bickers between you and Batman.

"Oh yeah, I forgot haven't told you." You look back down at the map in a poor attempt to change the subject.

"How long have you two been together?"

"About a month." You nodded.

"What does he do for a living?"

"What is this? An interogation?" You looked up at Gordon who looked like he had been caught in the middle of a heist.

"I just want to know who you're dealing with-" You wanted to laugh at his choice of words and side-eyed Bruce who was trying his best to keep himself out of the conversation.

"My relationship is not a criminal case, Gordon. He's a great guy that I really like, and can you accept the fact that maybe I don't want to tell who he is just yet?"

"Why?"

"Because if you knew you would make a full case file on him. And don’t act like I didn’t see files of my ex opened on your computer after I told you his name back when we started dating."

"You did that?" Batman chimed in with a light chuckle.

"You're not in this conversation." Gordon snapped.

"Just please, trust me."

And even though you knew he didn’t, at least he stopped asking questions.

Until four months later where his worries increased.

And who’s fault was that?

Your dear boyfriend who kept showering you with gifts and expensive things.

"Bruce, you have to stop" you made a desperate face as your thumb glided over the fabric of the Versace heels he had just gifted you.

"I saw you eyeing them when I was getting a new suit" he gave you a light smirk as he watched you bit your lip. Your words might have told him the contrary but he knew you were fan girling over these shoes and couldn't wait to wear them.

"I love them but, babe, you have to stop." You whined as you put the shoes back in their box and went to peck his lips.

"My closet is becoming fuller and fuller of designer clothes and people around me are starting to notice" you squeezed his shoulder a bit. "I even feel like Gordon is starting to get suspicious"

"Then don’t go to work in the things I gift you"

"Bruce, it has taken over my entire closet"

And exactly a week later, your predictions came true.

"Y/n, Im worried about you." Gordon stopped you as you were heading out of the building.

"Umm ok?" You blinked, holding onto your phone a bit tighter in your hand. It was late, you had a diner reservation and Bruce's car was parked a block away, waiting for you.

"Well…" Gordon shifted his weight from feet to feet, sighing before digging both his hands in his pockets and looking at you. "I’m not going to deny that you look… happier."

You raised an eyebrow as you tried to guess where he was going with his statement.

"But, this man you’re dating, he’s been giving you an awful lot of fancy gifts" he pointed to your brand new Burberry coat and the expensive heels you were wearing. Not to mention that he didn’t spot the thousand dollar dress you were wearing under the beige fabric. You were speechless, almost instantly knowing where he was going with this. "And.. I can see that he makes you happy I just- I’m worried that- and of course I trust you, I know you don’t let yourself be seduced by fancy things- but” He took a breath for courage. "I’m worried he’s got a grip on you with gifts- and-"

"Are you worried that I have a sugar daddy?" You tried to hold a laugh.

"Well- I wouldn’t-"

"Gordon." You put a hand up to his shoulder. "Please do not worry" you let you a short laugh at his antics. "He’s my age. And I’ve known him forever" you bit your lip so another laugh wouldn’t escape you.

Gordon’s eyes seem to soften as you explained.

"Trust me, I ask him not to get me all this" you pointed down to your clothes. "But that’s just who he is, I guess" you smiled a bit as you thought to the little meaningless fight you’d have over gifts. "So no, I am not a sugar baby" you chuckled as the words left your lips.

"That’s good." A tight lip smile fell across his features and a short silence lingered, you knew he wanted a name, to put a face on the one who would make you late for work, make you mindlessly smile when you thought of him, the one that bought you all these new things you kept changing into after work.

"I know you want his name" you broke the silence. "But not yet." You shook your head. "I promise you’ll find out and can make your police report on him to make sure he’s a good guy for me or whatever-"

"I wasn’t-"

"Gordon we both know-"

"Fine but-"

"Please trust me on this one. As I’ve said, I’ve known him forever. He’s a good guy, but I just can’t tell you yet." Your phone buzzed as you said that, a red heart filling the space for the name.

"He’s waiting for me." You smiled as you showed him your phone, Gordon sighed before moving and letting you through to the front door. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

Your 6 months anniversary was supposed to be perfect.

Perfect.

And apart from the rain that was pouring out onto Gotham, nothing could stop this moment from being amazing.

You were both sitting at a restaurant that gave out a beautiful view of the city. Its skyline almost looked even more beautiful with the rain hitting the river and making the street lights flicker.

You were deep into conversation, half of your appetizers already gone as you let the night take its course.

Those big grey eyes were looking back at you as you smiled, it was almost intoxicating how much you were falling more and more in love with him by the second. Everything about the way he was with you was warm and brought you comfort. He somehow felt like home, a home that you could find refuge to forever. Even with the over-exaggerated amount of gifts that you knew you couldn't level up with.

Everything was quiet, you could barely hear the chatter from the other guests, your table being too far and too hidden from the rest of the big room, to hidden for anyone to even notice the prince of Gotham was there.

You were about to break the short loving silence that had slithered itself into the evening. About to express the burning feeling in your heart-

but of course your work phone cut you.

"You can’t be serious?" you sighed and a short ugh sound left your lips as you threw your head back in desperation, Bruce frowned.

You had specifically told Gordon not to call you in case it was a big, batman level emergency.

He melted a bit in his seat at the thought of this night getting cut off by some Batman business, he started picking at the W engraved cufflink as he watched your face for a reaction to the call.

"Hello?" You heard muffled noises. Sounded like car tyres and an engine, maybe even the heavy rain ringing in the distance.

"Y/n-" the sound became less muffled, and suddenly you heard gunshots. Bruce watched as your face twisted with horror.

"I need you to meet me at the bat-signal, now. Light it up, I’ll be there when I can."

"Gordon what is happening? Are you ok?"

"Yes, I will be. I have to go-" more confusing sounds came from the other side of the line until it was cut by silence, and Bruce’s voice.

"What happened?"

"I- I don’t know- I heard guns, he was in a car- he- he told me to meet him at the bat signal, light it up. It sounded really bad"

He had that calm collected look he always did when he was trying analyse the situation and his next moves.

"Alright let’s go."

He took your hand as you walked back to the counter. You chewed on your bottom lip in anxiety as you tried to figure out what could have possibly happen to Gordon while Bruce figured out the entire paying and getting his jacket and your bag back from the coat check. You barely heard him ask for his car keys instead of someone bringing his car to him, something about being in a hurry.

But now you had other worries.

Spring had called to you being dressed in a long sleeveless dress and shiny heels, not only will you be meeting Gordon like this but your shoulders were barely covered for the rain.

And of course, the parking had to be in another building, leaving you to walk a block in the rain. You heard Bruce mumble a complaint about how this fancy restaurant could at least have a parking in the same building.

The second you were met with the flooding rain he shrugged his jacket off and laid it on your shoulders despite your resistance.

The leather of the car ended up getting soaked, so did your dress and Bruce's jacket that was now securely wrapped around your shoulders. Bruce was soaked just as much as you, his hair was unevenly poking around like the back of a hedgehog.

The two of you would have probably laughed at the situation if this had been different, but right now his eyes were focused on the road and yours on trying to get news from Gordon.

The bag signal lit up in the sky as your answer. He probably was already there, safe and away from who ever was chasing him before.

"What an anniversary."

"Tell me about it."

He parked right in front of the abandoned building, watching you as you slipped the sleeves of his jacket on, an attempt at shielding yourself from the storm that was waiting for you outside of his sports car.

"I’ll see you in a few minutes" you leaned your forehead against his.

"I love you" he mumbled before kissing your lips and reluctantly letting you go. He made sure you were inside before firing up his engine.

Gordon looked pissed.

The side of his jacket was ripped out, his glasses were crooked, he was dripping with rain just like you, and he was pacing around like a maniac, mumbling things as he did.

The sound of your heels came before your voice.

“What in the world happened?"

His wide eyes scanned your figure for a second and you realised he had noticed your outfit.

Of course he would

“I didn’t have time to change, I was at a restaurant.” You defended, bringing Bruce’s vest a little closer to your body as a shiver passed down your spine from the accumulated rain.

“I’m sorry I cut your evening” he sounded really desperate, not mad at you or frustrated that you came into work dressed in clothes more expensive than 3 months worth of both your paychecks united and heels that would definitely made you unable to run in case of emergencies.

"It’s alright, I just want to know." You pleaded again, taking a step closer to him.

"I found them, the base we have been searching for. I found half of their crew trying to smuggle something- I don’t know what yet, but it’s at least another clue. I know where they’re hiding now. But as I made my way out one of their guys spotted me-" he continued explaining the goose chase that had been going on while you were at diner. You carefully took in the information, trying to piece out the puzzle of this case.

You thought that maybe this would lead you to the Joker, or some other villain trying to put any version of your boyfriend’s head on a spike as well as rule Gotham’s darkest corners.

As he finished up his story, there he was, Batman. The shadow you had fallen in love with, a different version of him from the one you had been with barely 10 minutes ago.

"Nice fit" he looked at you up and down, not bothering to cover the way he was checking every piece of you out - and if you weren't dating the man behind the suit you would have probably wished you could disappear into a puddle with the rain.

"What are we here for?" He asked as if he hadn't known the danger Gordon had been in 20 minutes prior.

"Found them, they chased me around, I need you to bring us back to the station, I had to crash my car so they would stop following me" He winced at the memory. "We need to figure out what they want and what they're dealing so we can attack again. " He removed a usb plug from his pocket.

"What's that?" you frowned.

"clues"

You had forgotten how being in the Bat mobile felt. It was almost like a race car but everything was ten times more intense. You thought it might have even been similar to how formula one drivers felt. A swarm of buttons covered the dash, and when the inside of the car lit up, you remembered you'd have to be in the cramped back seat. Half of the space had been taken by version engines. You didn't even know if you could call this a seat.

"Sorry, princess," Batman mumbled as he opened his door and moved his seat forward so you could climb in the back. "Promise I'll give you a better ride next time." He winked and you wanted to hit him in the ribs to stop, but you quickly realized that it would be really dumb to do when he had his suit on.

That's when Gordon noticed the shiny button of Bruce's jacket that you still wore. Your hand was placed on top of the car as you made a movement to get in, the street light was reflecting on it.

His eyes focused on the engraved letter on the button.

He closed his eyes as he realized.

How could he have been so blind?

'I've known him forever' your words came back to him.

You were dating Bruce Wayne.

Of course, you were.

The gifts, the fancy dates, the wishing to keep the relationship a secret.

He snapped out of his realization and slid into the passenger seat of the batmobile, a smirk lighting up his features.

"You need a ride?" Batman offered as you yawned. You smiled as you put a file back in a cupboard. It was 3 am, you were finally satisfied with what you had come up with: a small plan that consisted of the three of you kidnapping the main boss and getting the information out of him.

Gordon looked up from his glasses before you could answer.

"I need to talk to her alone before, I'll give her a ride. Sorry Bats." He gave him a tight slip smile and you could see Bruce trying to keep his expression neutral.

"That's alright" He nodded, giving you a 'i'll be waiting for you at your place' look "I'll see you guys around."

"Bye bats"

Before he was even out the door you opened your phone to text him.

"One second I'm just texting my-"

"Bruce Wayne?" He took the words out of your mouth.

"What?" You froze.

How did he figure it out? was all your mind could play as you tried to find words to get out of this.

"Your boyfriend, Bruce Wayne." He folded his arms.

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Don't change the subject, Y/n" You swallowed as you knew there was no good way out of this.

"No?" It sounded like more of a question. "I'm not dating Bruce Wayne- he's- he's my friend."

"Right the friend who you went to diner with and came back with his jacket" He pointed to the vest you were still wearing.

Your eyes went wide and you noticed the W buttons.

Great.

"I promise I was going to tell you- I was just waiting-"

"Y/n, it's alright."

"What?"

"I get why you haven't told me, and I promise you that this time I won't make a file on him" He smiled a bit.

"You're not mad?"

"No?"

"Why are you smiling you usually hate my boyfriends"

"Y/n. You're a family friend, I've known you since you were a kid. But you forget I've known him since he was a kid." He pointed out. "The two of you weirdly fit together, Bruce is a good guy, I approve"

"You do?" You stayed baffled for a few seconds. 'Well that went better than expected'

"So you will stop asking me questions about my relationship?"

"Yes"

"Oh thank god."

"But just one condition, you ask Batman to cut off with the flirting or else I'm calling your boyfriend to tell him what's happening when he isn't around." That made you smile.

"Alright, I will"

Be added to my taglist

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#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne x you #Bruce Wayne x y/n #Bruce Wayne imagine #Battinson!bruce wayne #battinson x reader #battinson x you #battinson x y/n #battinson imagine

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